Elizabeth Thornton (28 page)

“I did try to tell Maitland.” she said. “I told him that George was involved against his will. But Maitland only laughed and said that’s what everyone says when they’re caught. Then later,” she shook her head, “I began to think maybe Maitland was right, that George was a conspirator too. I was terrified that if they found him, they would shoot him on sight.”

“Abbie!” cried her mother, deeply shocked. “How could you think such a thing of your own brother?”

“Newgate will do that to you,” said Abbie, and was sorry she had said so much when she saw the look of grief that convulsed her mother’s face.

Giles quickly interposed, “What do you think now, Abbie?”

“George is innocent. There’s no doubt in my mind. He would never have involved me in such an ugly business if he’d had any choice. No, I’m the one who got
him
involved because of that—that book.” She looked directly at Daniel. “But George means nothing to Maitland—it doesn’t matter to Maitland whether George was abducted
or if he’s a conspirator. I saw what happened to those young men this morning when the soldiers tried to arrest them, and if I can help it, it won’t happen to George. I don’t trust Maitland and his crew any more than I trust George’s abductors.”

Daniel’s face was ashen. “You see what this means? When George’s abductors find out: that Abbie no longer has the book—that the authorities have it …” He looked at his mother, and broke off.

“What?” asked Lady Clivendon. Her voice rose in her alarm. “Daniel, finish what you were going to say.” As she worked it out for herself, her face crumpled. “They’ll have no reason to keep George alive. That’s it, isn’t it?”

When Lady Clivendon burst into tears, Harriet sent her brother a withering look and went to comfort her mother.

Giles said, “Let’s stay calm. Let’s not allow our imaginations to run away with us. And let’s not look for trouble before it finds us. As far as we know, George is alive. If we accept that, then we can do something to find him. But if we lose hope, we’ll be of no use to anyone, least of all George.”

Lady Clivendon dried her tears, and Harriet threw her husband a grateful look. Abbie felt grateful to Giles as well. Her hope of saving George had been almost extinguished when Hugh gave the book to Maitland. Now her hopes began to revive.

Lady Clivendon spoke in a quavering voice. “Then what’s to be done, Giles? Where do we begin to look?”

Giles smiled at Abbie. “Oh, I think Abbie should answer that. She’s had more time to think about it than we have. And, if I’m not mistaken, I believe she has a plan.”

She was nervous, because everyone was looking at her, and in the old days, her opinions hadn’t counted for
much. “It’s not much of a plan,” she said, “but I think it might work with a bit of luck.” She breathed deeply, then went on, “What if I were to do exactly what George’s abductors told me to do? What if I were to place the advertisement in
The Times
?”

“But you don’t have the book,” said Harriet.

“They might not know that. And I would think they’d want to make sure before they do anything drastic. I’ll demand to see George before I hand over the book. Then we’ll have to figure out what to do from there.”

“In spite of your misgivings, Abbie,” said Daniel, “I still think our best bet is to go to the authorities.”

“What could they do that they’re not doing now? I mean, they’re already looking for George, and the men who abducted him. What have we got to lose?”

Giles said, “She has a point.”

There was an interval of silence, then Daniel said, “And if no one answers the advertisement, what then?”

Then she really would give up hope
. “It’s possible that George has managed to get away from his abductors. Maybe he’s in hiding. Maybe he thinks the house is being watched and he’s afraid to show his face. I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I do know that we can’t sit around here waiting for the world to end. We’ve got to do something. And I say we make it as easy as possible for George to find us.”

Harriet said uncertainly, “But Abbie, we’ve already looked everywhere for George, and we haven’t found him.”

“Let Abbie finish,” said her ladyship. “Go on, Abbie. How do we make it easy for George to find us?”

“We do what we usually do when we’re in London. We go out and about. We go to the theater, the opera, to
balls and parties. George knows this. If he’s afraid to come to the house, he’ll look for us there.”

Everyone saw they had little to lose by going along with Abbie’s plan. They saw something else in Abbie. The shattering experience she’d come through, far from breaking her, had made her stronger.

Daniel blew out a stream of smoke, then went to the window and opened it. “Mother hates the smell of tobacco,” he said.

Giles drew on his cheroot and exhaled with slow pleasure. “You’re lucky,” he said. “Harriet won’t let me smoke in the house.”

Daniel smiled. “I know. I see you sometimes when I look out the window. Rain or shine, after dinner, there goes poor Giles in the garden enjoying a solitary cigar.”

“That’s the trouble with living next door to your relatives,” said Giles reflectively. “You can’t have any secrets.”

“Then why did you buy the house next door?”

“Harriet wanted to be close to her mother. And it’s a convenient location for Whitehall and the shops. Harriet loves to shop.”

Daniel shook his head. “Though she is my own sister, sometimes I wonder why you put up with her.”

Giles said, “Oh, she suits me in other ways.”

This was said with a big smile on his face, and Daniel, to cover his embarrassment, pretended that his cigar had gone out, and used a taper to light it again.

“I have to say this, Giles. I’m surprised that you went along with Abbie’s desire not to call in the authorities. They have the resources, and they know what they’re doing. We’re the blind leading the blind.”

“By ‘the authorities,’ you mean magistrates and constables?”

“Of course.”

“But they’re not the ones who would be investigating this case. This is no ordinary crime. We’re dealing with national security, and there’s a special branch of investigators that handles that.”

“How do you know?”

Giles stretched out his legs in front of the fire. “I work for the Prime Minister. Anything worth knowing always stops at the Prime Minister’s desk.”

Daniel turned his head and stared at his brother-in-law with an oddly arrested expression. “I had not realized you were so well connected at Whitehall.”

“Oh, I’m not. But an aide gets to hear things. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t think I do know.”

“I keep my eyes and ears open. That’s all I meant. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. These special investigators play by their own rules, and it’s a dirty game, as Abbie discovered. I think she’s right. They won’t care what happens to George. They’re after bigger fry.”

Daniel said bleakly, “Are you saying there’s no hope for George, that we might as well give up?”

Giles’s voice softened. “No,” he said, “we won’t give up. Abbie has the right idea. At the very least, she’s going to keep everyone busy and keep family morale up. And I have a few ideas of my own.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Giles hesitated, then said, “How serious were you when you said you would challenge Templar to a duel?”

“I was never more serious in my life.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Giles. “In the first place, Abbie would never forgive you.”

Daniel protested, “She expects it! She would applaud!”

“Are you sure of that?”

“She said so! We both heard her.”

“Yes, she said it today. But what would she say tomorrow, or next week, or next month? Take it from one who knows, Abbie would never forgive you.”

Daniel took a moment to digest this, then said cautiously, “You said ‘in the first place.’ What’s the other reason to stop me from giving that snake what he deserves?”

“Only this,” said Giles. “I’m counting on Templar to help us find George.”

T
hey quickly put Abbie’s plan into action. Within hours of arriving home, she had visited
The Times
offices and placed her advertisement. The next order of business was to acquire suitable clothes, for most of her garments remained in Bath or had been lost on the trip to London. Again, Harriet surprised her, offering to let her pick out whatever she needed from her closets. While the ladies trooped over to Harriet’s house to go through her wardrobe, the gentlemen followed their normal routine. Giles went to his office in Downing Street, and Daniel went off to his club in St. James’s.

They met again at dinner and compared notes. Giles was the only one with any real information. There was a rumor circulating around Whitehall, he said, that some notorious French spy had arrived in England. The special branch people were looking for him and his accomplices. Meanwhile, as a precaution, extra security measures had been taken to protect the royal family and the Prime Minister.

“So you see,” he said to Abbie, “how lucky you were
that Templar interceded for you. If he hadn’t, the charges against you would be very serious.”

This observation was met by stony silence.

Taking this as encouragement, Giles went on, “I’m wondering whether we shouldn’t ask Templar to help us. Considering what you learned about his background, Abbie, it sounds like he’d be the perfect person to help us find George.”

This suggestion acted on all present as though a firecracker had been tossed among them. Everyone spoke at once. Hugh Templar was beneath contempt. What he had done to Abbie was unconscionable. The man was not to be trusted. Someone should put a bullet in his brain, or run him through with a sword. No Vayle would ever speak to him again.

Abbie had the last word, and her paper-white cheeks and the haunted look in her eyes added to the weight of what she had to say. “Did he do us a good turn, Giles? How can you be sure? Isn’t it possible that they let me go so that I could lead them to George? I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re watching the house right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m followed wherever I go. Time will tell. And I assure you, I didn’t take any chances this morning when I went to
The Times
offices, and I won’t be taking any chances in the future.”

She looked around the table, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m not prepared to trust Hugh Templar. In fact, the only people I’m willing to trust are the people in this room, the people I love and who love me.”

Her words affected each person powerfully, but before they were overcome with emotion, she brought them up short. “Keep in mind that we’ve embarked on something dangerous. I’m not thinking only of Maitland and
his people. I cannot forget that I was assaulted in my own house.” She breathed deeply to steady herself as the memory of that night came back to her. “These are desperate men. They won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in their way. Harriet, you and the children can’t stay here. It’s not safe. I would feel much easier in my mind, if you and Mama and the girls were to go to your place in Oxfordshire until this is over.”

This provoked another emotional outburst. Harriet didn’t mind sending away her daughters, who could go to Giles’s mother in Henley. But her own place was at her sister’s side, and nothing would change her mind. Her ladyship expressed the same passionate opinion. Vayles stuck together.

The ladies dabbed their eyes with their napkins; Daniel and Giles refilled their glasses of brandy. Then they began to map out their strategy.

In the week that followed, Abbie and her family were to be seen everywhere. During the day they went shopping or riding or driving in Hyde Park; they made calls on friends and acquaintances. At night, when Giles was free to join them, they went to the theater or to the pleasure gardens at Vauxhall; they went to musicales and parties. There had never been a London season where Vayles were so visible.

And where they went, so did their shadow.

“One of Maitland’s crew,” said Giles, surreptitiously looking down on the street from one of the upstairs bedrooms of Vayle House.

Abbie twitched the curtain and looked down on the man who was strolling past the house.

“I think it’s horrible,” said Harriet.

“No,” said Giles. “It means they think George is still alive.”

Inevitably, they ran into Hugh. The first time Abbie came face-to-face with him was in Bond Street, when she and Harriet were shopping. He was with Barbara Munro and had just exited from an exclusive millinery shop, followed by a footman laden with hatboxes. When he saw Abbie, his jaw dropped.

Recovering himself, he left Miss Munro’s side and approached Abbie. Without a pretense of civility, he said, “What the devil are you doing in London? I thought you would have the sense to go home to Bath.”

Abbie’s only response was to give him “the cut direct.” She linked her arm through Harriet’s and, as though he were invisible, embarked on an animated discussion of the weather.

She heard Hugh come after her, but Daniel was watching for them from the carriage. He quickly alighted and blocked Hugh’s path.

“So that’s the way of it,” said Hugh quietly, taking in Daniel’s belligerent stance, then turned and went back to Miss Munro.

After that, whenever their paths crossed, which happened too frequently for Abbie’s comfort, they might have been icebergs passing in the night. She discovered, however, that though she could avoid looking at Hugh, she could not always avoid hearing about him, as on the night they attended Mrs. Montague’s musicale.

It was during the intermission, when Daniel and Giles had wandered off to the billiard room for a smoke, that she heard the first titillating piece of gossip. She and her mother and sister were replenishing their punch glasses at the refreshments table, when they were joined by Lady Greer. Hugh was somewhere in the crush, and
though Abbie hadn’t seen him for over an hour, her unerring instinct told her he was at one of the windows that overlooked Hyde Park.

Lady Greer was one of her mother’s cronies, and Abbie scarcely heard a word until Hugh’s name was mentioned. No one was sure, confided Lady Greer, whether his affair with Barbara Munro was blowing hot or cold. But she had heard from her modiste, who was also Miss Munro’s modiste, that the actress was spending money like water, and Hugh Templar was footing the bill. On the other hand—she glanced over Abbie’s shoulder to the window that overlooked the park—what was he doing here, at a boring musicale, where only virtuous ladies were to be found? And why was he spending all his nights at White’s, gaming his fortune away, when Miss Munro had a snug little house on the edge of Mayfair?