Mary Blayney (21 page)

Gabriel nodded. It was not precisely how it worked, but he assumed McNulty meant to protect others who used the same codes. He did not recognize the name, and the damage to McNulty’s face was such that he could not tell if they had actually met.

“None of what I expected came to pass. While I was waiting for Lord Gabriel a group of men came into the tavern, sent most of the men and prostitutes away and then lined up the chosen few along the back wall.”

This part, before he had arrived on the scene, was new to Gabriel. He listened with interest and a sickening sense of impending disaster.

“They did not so much as question us. There was no torture. They said they would use us as an example to all who would betray French interests. To this there was much objection, by both the innocent and the guilty.”

Gabriel could imagine the fear. Could almost smell it.

“When Pennistan entered, they accosted him and demanded he name his fellow spies. Pennistan refused to do so. He could speak honestly, since he had no idea who I was or who else might be there as support for me. In the end, his attempt to defend us failed.

“Pennistan protested with some violence. He managed to overcome one of his assailants. Two others restrained him while they used guns and knives to dispatch the lot of us, guilty or innocent. I fell before they could attack me, and was bathed in the blood of the others. I found myself beneath one of the victims, thus able to escape murder. All the while, Pennistan protested with the shock and horror anyone would expect of an honorable man.”

Screamed and begged was the way Gabriel recalled it. He swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat.

“They did not kill Pennistan, but told him that they were taking him to Paris. The Minister of Police himself would speak with him before he was sent to his death.”

The group looked at Gabriel.

“As they left the tavern, two of the men stayed and began to pour spirits on the floor and the bodies. They set the tavern afire and I was not able to escape immediately. That is how I sustained the injuries that mark me today.”

Shelby paused in his reading, as though McNulty himself was an exhibit of Gabriel’s innocence.

“I am writing this on Lord Gabriel’s behalf. He was not the one who betrayed the group gathered there. Further, he was not trained as a spy but acquitted himself with distinction. For that he is to be honored and not vilified.”

Major Shelby finished and handed the paper back to the aide, who set it aside for the viscount’s further perusal.

“Comments, gentlemen?” the viscount’s aide asked.

“How does this prove he is innocent?” Doncaster did not stand up, but spoke in a loud voice. “It was an act, as proof of his innocence.”

“His audience was dead, Doncaster,” Shelby reminded him. “Or so the French thought.”

No one else had a comment, and Doncaster seemed to shrink visibly.

“Doncaster, we understand your bitterness over the organization’s failure in Portugal. You are no more to blame than Lord Gabriel is. Someone compromised the organization. We will find out who. Not today, but we will make it a priority, I promise you.”

Doncaster nodded. “I will remind you of that promise, my lord.” He had the look of a man defeated in spirit and will.

The aide drew everyone’s attention back to Gabriel.

“Is that accounting commensurate with your experience, my lord?” the aide asked him directly.

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “When I saw that they intended a fire I begged them to stop, to allow the men a decent burial. They pulled me out and ended any discussion by rendering me unconscious. That is all I remember until I woke up in a local prison.” He had not seen the actual fire. It was one of the small graces of that horrible day.

“Thank you, Mr. McNulty,” the viscount said. “Your account solves a puzzle for me, a puzzle for all of us, which you can see from the varying opinions expressed today.”

Several others nodded as the viscount went on, addressing McNulty directly. “The information Lord Gabriel has given us since his return is going to be just as useful as the observations he made while in Portugal.”

Now the viscount turned to Gabriel. “Your description of the state of the countryside, your mode of travel, what you saw along the way, your skill in physically describing them was most useful, your clarity of expression impressive. It is as refined as your brother suggested earlier.”

The man who had questioned him spoke next. “Most important, my lord, is that never once in the last three months did you attempt to bargain for your life or for any gain. We kept waiting for you to do so, and you never did.”

Had he come that close to prison? In the end, had McNulty’s testimony been the only thing between him and the gallows?

The questioning appeared to be over and general comments began. Gabriel glanced at McNulty, who seemed calm enough, if somewhat uncomfortable. One hand rested on the table.

McNulty was wearing gloves, Gabriel noticed. To protect or hide his disfigured hands? Perhaps both.

McNulty was looking down at the table. Even with the gloves on, he was running one hand along the fine wood as though he could feel its texture.

As he did so, Gabriel remembered Charlotte’s way of running her fingers over fabric, along his body as though any tactile contact entertained her as much as a good book would entertain her mind.

He raised his eyes slowly and looked into the one eye he could see.

The color was hard to decipher, as it had always been with her. The expression was not. She might as well have shouted it.
Control yourself. Do not ruin this.

24

G
ABRIEL LOOKED AWAY
from her. With great effort he kept his seat, mightily resisting the impulse to jump up, grab her and smother that well-disguised face with kisses. Betray her? Never. Not in ten thousand years.

He stood up. Lyn straightened and Gabriel shot him a reassuring smile.

“The great disadvantage in being an untrained spy is the amount of time I have spent heartsick at the memory of the men who died while I watched.” He stopped so he could steady his voice. “There are men who will not see home again because of me. Men were murdered in front of me and McNulty scarred for life. Because the French wanted me to know that I was at their mercy.”

“Please, sit down, my lord,” the viscount spoke. “I know you will find it hard to believe, but all of us here live with those same nightmares. Our experience is less immediate than yours, but our responsibility far greater.”

Gabriel eyed each one of them and wondered if that was the truth. With McNulty in their midst, how could they sleep, much less eat dinner or read a book?

“There is only one thing I need to know from you,” Gabriel said as he sat down again, slowly. “I want to hear you say out loud and in words I can understand that there is no court or hangman’s noose awaiting me.”

The silence was complete. Was it not as obvious as he thought?

“My lord, gentlemen,” he said, prepared now to plead his own case. “I have given service to my country. Not as long or as meaningful as yours, but we have well established that this is not where my talents are best exercised.”

There was a choke of a sound from McNulty. Was it a laugh? Shelby popped up from his chair. “Viscount Sidmouth, with your permission I am going to escort Mr. McNulty out. I do believe his business is complete.”

That interrupted Gabriel’s thought process and diverted everyone’s attention. With praise and thanks, the man was allowed to leave.

Gabriel stepped out and blocked the way. He waited until he could see her eyes and then spoke. “Thank you.”
For believing me. For defending me. For saving me.

“You’re welcome.” The rusty voice was a whisper.

“I trust we will meet again.”

She said nothing to that and began the slow, apparently painful process of leaving the room, leaning heavily on Shelby’s arm. When the door closed behind them, Gabriel turned back to the table. He repeated his question.

“I want to know when I will be free to return to my home, to resume study in those areas where I can make a contribution more suited to my training.”

“You are free when you walk out of this room, my lord. There can be no doubt of that.” The viscount gave his verdict and the rest nodded, though with various degrees of enthusiasm.

The viscount’s aide leaned forward. “We would ask you to explain your absence in a more innocent way.”

“I do not wear the title ‘spy’ with pride. I too would prefer no one know of this.”

“The discussion has not gone beyond this room,” the aide said.

Viscount Sidmouth nodded a little. “If you refer them here, we will say we have never heard of you and have never met you.”

Thank you, Gabe said with a nod. That was one way of dealing with painful memories. Pretend they never existed. He wondered how many of the men in this room did that, with or without the help of brandy.

Gabriel considered how long it would take for McNulty to work his way down the hall. “I do have one more brief question, gentlemen. Have you met Mrs. Parnell?”

They all looked at the viscount, who nodded to his aide.

“Yes, we have,” the aide said. “We know little about her, but we have met her. She might be an older woman, but it is precisely her grandmotherly demeanor that gives her freedom of movement in France.”

Did he truly think Charlotte an older woman? Gabriel looked at each of them. Several of the men were staring at the tabletop. The viscount was reading yet another dispatch.

“Thank you, my lord, gentlemen.” He bowed to them. “Good day to all of you. I trust we will never meet again.”

No one had an answer for him; but then, he did not wait for one. He left the room, anxious to speak with McNulty. He would let his brother clean up the bits.

He saw Shelby and his crippled friend farther down the hall, almost to the front entrance. McNulty was not walking as slowly as he had in the conference room. Gabriel went after them, trying his best not to attract too much attention.

“Major,” he called out. “Mr. McNulty.” They appeared not to hear him. Odd that everyone else turned but neither one of them reacted. The twosome was already out the door. Major Shelby was handing McNulty into a coach as Gabriel caught up to them.

The major turned as if he would block contact, when a woman’s voice discouraged him. “I will speak with him, Shelby.”

Shelby moved aside, walked to the coachman and turned his back to them.

“Charlotte,” Gabriel began.

“Listen to me,” she said, shaking her head. The eye patch was gone; otherwise, she looked as she had before. “This is good-bye, my lord.” Her words were firm. “My work as Charlotte Parnell is complete. I owed you this for saving the children in Portsmouth. This was my last masquerade.”

He reached into the coach, took her gloved hand and pulled off the bit of cotton. “You’ve rescued the last child?” Her reluctant nod made it clear that was more information than she wished to give. She pulled her hand away and raised it to knock on the roof of the coach.

“Wait, there is so much more I need to know. Tell me where I can find you. I need to see you again. We cannot let it end like this.”

She was watching him with strained patience. As if he were an actor and she were the audience. Not the other way around.

“At least tell me your true name, Charlotte.”

“No.” The one word was a vow. “You saved me in Portsmouth and I have saved you here. We are even.” Now she did knock on the roof. As she did, she gave her parting shot. “This part of my life is over forever. I never want to see you again.”

“Liar,” he said as Shelby pulled him away from the moving coach and slammed the door.

Gabriel and Shelby made their way back to the building. “At least the true major does not feel the need to speak every thought twice.”

“You do remember me!” Shelby said. “You gave no sign of it, my lord.” He stood back and looked him up and down. “You pay amazing attention to the finest details. I imagine you were good at your work. If the war were not about to end, I would try to persuade you to give it another try.”

“I do believe I have done my part,” Gabriel said as they started walking again. “Tell me, was there really a McNulty?” he asked, with no expectation of an answer.

“Yes,” Shelby said. “I knew him and called him friend. He died two months ago after he came back from Portugal.

He told me the story that basically corroborates the version you told.

“After the incident in Portsmouth, Charlotte asked if there was a way she could help you. I told her that the government did not see you as innocent. I could repeat McNulty’s version but was not sure they would accept it if he was not present.

“She was the one who suggested that she pretend to be McNulty. It took us weeks to make it work. She could never disguise her voice enough and then we thought of having me read the testimony, with McNulty present.”

Gabriel could see Lyn coming down the hall, hurrying toward them as though he feared a fight would break out.

“A fine last performance, Major. Deceiving the deceivers.”

“But we did not fool the amateur, my lord. Tell me,” Shelby urged in a voice suggesting a secret, “how did you recognize her?”

“As you said, I notice details.”

“And that was?” Shelby prompted.

Did he ask the question as a confidence between equals? Gabriel was not about to answer without bargaining. “Major, I will tell you, if you tell me where to find her.”

Shelby actually considered it for a minute, then smiled and shook his head. “No, I will not. Let it be your final test. You can tell her personally what detail gave her away.”

By the time Gabriel and the duke were in the coach and headed through the busy London streets, Gabriel had calmed down enough to explain the whole to Lyn.

“That was her, sitting right in the room? How did you know? How could you tell?”

It took a great deal to impress his brother. He wished he could take more satisfaction from it. “I know her,” he said, not interested in the past, trying to determine what the next step would be. “What does it matter? I found her and now she is gone again.”

“Answer me one more question before you sink into a puddle of self-pity.”

That drew his attention.

“How can the government trust someone to work for them when they do not know anything about her?”

“It is not about trust, Lyn. It’s about finding someone who will bring you what you need as quickly as possible. You thought she could do the job, but did you trust her?”

“Point taken,” the duke said as he reached under the seat and produced a bottle of brandy. He pulled out the cork and handed it to Gabriel. “I forgot to bring glasses, but a swig of this might help your mood.”

They each took a drink straight from the bottle. It reminded Gabriel of his first London Season. In those days Lyn had seemed so much more worldly than he was. What was it about years that lessened that sort of gap?

They settled back as the traffic slowed to let the crested coach pass.

“Do you think anyone else knew she was McNulty? Except Shelby, of course.”

Gabriel thought about it and shook his head.

Lyn answered his own question. “I think the viscount knew. I tried several times to see him over the last week or so and he always said he was too busy. Which may well have been true. At the time I thought it was a bad sign; now I think he knew there was nothing to worry about.”

“It would have taken no more than a minute to tell you.”

“He wanted to preserve the air of uncertainty,” Lyn said, nodding with perfect understanding. “The House of Lords is a fine training place for intrigue.”

“You seem to have learned very quickly. Politics would not suit me at all.” Gabriel dismissed it with barely a moment’s thought. “Do you think Sidmouth allowed the ruse to accommodate you or because he believes me innocent?”

“Of course he believes you. The whole trap stinks to heaven of Fouché’s machinations. Do you remember father’s endless tirades about how he was a madman?”

“A little. I was not beside him all the time the way you were.”

They sat quietly for a moment, watching London life pass by.
I am free,
Gabriel thought.
I can climb from this carriage and run all the way home, or stop at my club and pretend I have been in Canada for the last two years, or tell the truth, to hell with what the
ton
will think.

What did
he
want? To see his family. To visit Rhys Braedon and his wife. One more thing, at least as important as the other two: “I am determined to find Charlotte again, Lyn.”

“How will you do it if she does not want to be found? How do you think the government found her?”

“I think Major Shelby is the go-between.”

“Yet he does not know where she lives?”

“So he said. I would not bet on his honesty.” Gabriel took another drink from the bottle. “It’s amazing. Those few days in France seem simple compared to life now. I never thought I would say that.”

“So how does he contact her?”

It was not often that Gabriel was the expert. It was so rare, he was positive his brother was trying to keep him from falling into the well-phrased “puddle of self-pity.”

“I expect he sends a message through some reliable party with no interests in the war effort.”

“Like her man of business or a physician or someone with whom both might have contact?”

“Yes, then they meet somewhere in town, most likely at a bordello.” Madame Rostine’s came to mind. “You see, Lyn, the magic of doing it thus is that no one has to trust anyone.”

“So you need only to find a contact willing to talk about a woman who has most likely confused them as completely as she has confused you.”

“Yes, but at least I know where to start. Did you tell me that you knew her man of business?”