Let Me Be The One (56 page)

"In the innermost part of the house. This passage winds its way to at least a dozen other rooms that I know of. The walls are not uniformly thick, though. When everyone begins to stir we will have to be even more cautious. Keep in mind that when we can hear others, we can also be heard."

"Are we close to the gallery?"

"This will take us there. It is below and to the left."

"And what about the baron's library and the private room you both mentioned? The one that is similar to what the ambassador has."

"It is also connected by this passage. There are many ways out, North, but only one way in. Once we make our decision to enter any room we cannot return by that same route. These panels operate on springs that cannot be found from the other side. The design is very clever and made it difficult for the king's men to find those in hiding."

"Then it makes sense for one of us to remain behind in the passage."

"Just so. Another good reason to have me along." To her credit, Elizabeth did not gloat. She had tried to tell North some of these things prior to accompanying him to Battenburn. While the colonel had listened intently to what she was saying, she now believed North had heard as little as one word in three. She unerringly found his knee and laid her hand lightly upon it. "You will not regret having me beside you," she said softly. "Really, North. I promise I will do as you say."

He said nothing for a long time. Had Elizabeth not been touching him she would have questioned whether he had abandoned her. Finally his hand closed over hers. He squeezed her lingers gently, reassuringly. "
Precisely
as I say," he told her. He felt her slight movement. "Are you nodding, Elizabeth?"

"Yes."

"Good."

* * *

Louise put down her cup of hot chocolate and examined her face in the mirror above her vanity, lifting her chin and turning first one cheek, then the other, in a careful inspection for wrinkles, blemishes, and the odd stray hair.

From his perch on the window seat, Harrison watched her with mild amusement. "You are perfect as always, my dear. Dazzling, in fact."

Louise's eyes lifted to the emerald and diamond brooch she had fastened to the green silk band in her hair. "You do not think it is too much?" she asked. "Our guests arrive early in the day. I should not like to be thought garish."

"No one would ever think that," he said gallantly. "Sutton and Whittington will be favorably impressed." Battenburn smoothed the line of his gray frock coat and made a slight adjustment to his cravat. "I expect them shortly, so have finished with your preening."

Her head swiveled sideways and she gave him an arch look. "Pot calling the kettle black."

Coming to his feet, Battenburn smiled thinly. "You are right as ever." He paused at her side on his way to the door and dropped a light kiss on her cheek. "I will await you in the library."

She caught his hand as he straightened."After today there will be nothing of a political nature that is not influenced by us. It is everything we have worked for. Our place in society is set. We have more ability to persuade others and fashion the outcome of events than if you had been named to the king's inner circle of advisors."

"As I most surely should have been."

"Of course," she said sincerely. "And as you will be soon. You are invested in schemes certain to bring about greater wealth than we enjoy now. That we will want for nothing is assured for our lifetime. I should be surprised if you are not to be granted a title more deserving of your stature. Marquess, for example."

"Duke."

"Or duke."

"Your point, Louise." He removed his hand from hers. "I hope you do not intend to refine upon my playing at cards. A man must have some pursuits outside of politics and society."

"I understand," she said quietly. "It is Elizabeth I wish to speak of."

"What of her?"

"I think she may still be of some use to us."

"Did you not just say that we have achieved what we wanted?"

"Well, yes, but that is not—"

"I have made my decision, Louise. And you agreed. As I recall, you were the one who first suggested that our association with Elizabeth had exceeded its usefulness. I was never as taken with the idea that she should marry Northam as you were. The man does not impress me as someone who can be easily controlled."

"That is why Elizabeth is valuable. He can be guided by us through her. You said yourself that he pledged silence in regard to Elizabeth's thefts."

"That is what he said."

"You don't believe him?"

"I don't trust him."

"He has the ear of Colonel Blackwood," said Louise. "We were never able to make Elizabeth's connection to him work to our advantage. This is a second opportunity."

Harrison sighed. "You are changing your mind, are you not?"

She smiled a trifle guiltily. "I confess I am. Please say you will indulge me, Harrison."

He regarded her shrewdly. "What is it you really want, my dear? And, pray, do not say it is only the colonel's ear. I know you too well to be gulled in that manner."

Louise's laughter trilled. "Your perception does you credit, my lord. I have been admiring Lady Everly's ruby bracelet for some time. With Elizabeth's help, it should not be so very difficult to acquire."

"You are incorrigible, Louise."

"Then you agree? The Gentleman Thief will venture out one more time?"

"One more time," he said. "Then it must end, Louise. Our association with Elizabeth must be finished."

"Of course. I will see to it myself." She smiled. "Don't I always?"

* * *

Elizabeth was more puzzled than frightened. She relighted the candle and carefully led North through the passage to the library. There was more space for them to stretch in the wider corridor that adjoined Battenburn's private reading room. "I think she means to kill me, Northam. I am to steal Lady Everly's bracelet for her and then she means to kill me. Do you not think that is her intention?"

North regarded Elizabeth's bemused features in the candlelight. His own were not so soft or bewildered, and there was nothing tentative about his response. "I think it is exactly her intention." He took the candle from her when her hand began to tremble. "Do not be afraid, Elizabeth. I shall—"

"Afraid? Not bloody likely. I am angry, North. Furious, really." Her eyes dropped to the pouch Northam had slung over his shoulder. "Do you have a pistol in there? I am certain I could use it."

He was not at all sure how serious she was. "No pistol," he told her. "I take it you are persuaded how intent the baroness is on making her acquisitions, whether it is jewelry or influence, and how little regard she has for anyone who has assisted her."

"Little regard? Clearly that is an understatement." Elizabeth's grave expression turned a little sad. "It has only been about more, hasn't it?"

"Pardon?"

"More," she said. "More wealth. More lands. More influence. A more prestigious title. More power." Elizabeth raised her hands helplessly, shrugging. "More."

His voice was gentle. "What did you imagine?"

She was quiet a moment, turning her face away from the candlelight. "I suppose I thought they had some grand plan, something they thought would change things for others, not simply for themselves. Even when they were doing their worst I wanted to believe their intent was noble."

"Noble?"

"Well, good, then."

"Elizabeth."

"Very well. I did not want to believe they were complete villains."

North found that he still had it in him to smile. "You are neither so cynical nor so worldly as you would have me believe."

"I suppose not." She was more than a little disappointed in herself. "You must allow that I have tried."

He put his arm around her shoulder and blew out the candle. "You certainly have."

* * *

Lord Whittington was finding it difficult to sit. His long frame did not fit easily into the overstuffed chair by the fireplace, and the spindly-legged, claw-footed appointments had never been to his liking. He got to his feet for the third time in three minutes. "It is beyond my comprehension that Battenburn would keep us waiting," he said to his companion. "Why the deuce we should have had to come so far is also beyond my ken."

Sutton sighed. His stocky frame was better comforted by the wing chair than Whittington's. "You are jumping about like grease on a griddle. Calm yourself, Whittington. I am sure Battenburn has planned every detail of this meeting. If we are to wait, then it has some purpose for him. You would do well to take it in stride. Apoplexy can be the only outcome otherwise."

The Earl of Whittington was not subdued in the least. "I want it over," he said, pacing. "Even the countess has remarked to me that I have been out of sorts, and my mood has never been of any importance to her."

"All the more reason for you to mind yourself."

The heavy doors to the library parted and Battenburn stepped inside. "I hope you have not been discommoded by your wait," he said genially. "There was a small matter requiring my attention that delayed me. I see you have refreshment." The doors were closed soundlessly behind him. "How was your journey? Did you travel together?"

Sutton raised one fiery red brow. "Not possible, Battenburn, and you know it. I was unaware Whittington was to come here until my carriage met his on the road. You did not intend us to know about the other before today."

"True, but one never can be certain. My caution to speak to no one aside, it would have been understandable if your association with the ambassador had prompted you to seek each other out."

Whittington pivoted toward Sutton. "That is why you are here also?" he asked. "The French ambassador?"

"It appears we both are," Sutton said mildly. "Is that correct, Battenburn?"

"I am delighted to say that is precisely the way of it." He carefully reached inside his frock coat and extracted two neatly folded sheets of vellum. He held one up in each hand. "Do not attempt to thwart me by destroying these. They are copies, written in my own hand. The originals are elsewhere. Quite safe. You will be able to attest to the veracity of the contents. I copied them exactly. Even the misspellings." He gave each man his own correspondence to prove the truth of his words; then he had them trade the letters and poured himself a glass of Madeira while they read.

Whittington was silent as he reviewed Sutton's missive. Lord Sutton only spoke once, and that was to remark on Whittington's lamentable spelling.

Battenburn tossed both letters in the fireplace when they were returned to him. They sparked immediately and were consumed in a flash of flame. "So there you have it," he said calmly. "Perhaps you did not realize how much you have in common with the other, but now I have brought it to your attention. Your correspondence with the ambassador can hardly be construed as diplomacy. It is more likely to be viewed as treasonous. Your interests are not those of the Crown and, in fact, fly in the face of the prime minister's ambitions. One can only wonder what you hoped to gain by putting such ideas to paper."

Agitated, Whittington began pacing again. His long stride quickly took him from one side of the library to the other. "How did you come by these letters? Sutton, do you know? He said nothing to me."

"Nor me." Lord Sutton looked to the baron for understanding.

"It is of no importance," Battenburn said. "What you should concern yourselves with is my intention to use them if we cannot arrive at some agreement."

"Agreement on what?" asked Sutton.

"My proper place among the king's advisors."

Whittington stopped pacing abruptly and stared hard at Battenburn, surprised and somewhat relieved. "Is that all?"

Sutton was equally comforted. "Why did you not say so? It is easily enough arranged."

Battenburn was not appeased by their willingness to oblige him. In fact, the mere effortlessness with which they could give him what he coveted so dearly enraged him. He drank deeply from his wineglass to calm himself. "There may be certain monetary requirements from time to time," he said. Until this moment he had not considered asking them for a single farthing. It was really beneath him. It was also an insult to them, since he clearly did not require their money. "Only from time to time, my lords."

"Now see here, Battenburn," Whittington blustered. "I will not—"

Sutton held up one hand, interrupting the earl. "You will, Whit. We both will. We know it and Battenburn knows it. I read your correspondence and you read mine. Perhaps we were too trusting of the ambassador. It may be that he betrayed us."

"I cannot believe that." He looked to the baron for some hint that this might be so. Battenburn's cool blue eyes were without expression. "I will want the original letter. The one in my handwriting."

"Of course," said Battenburn. "I will return it... eventually."

The Earl of Whittington remained insistent. "I will see it now."

"I shall have to do the same," Sutton said. "You understand we must know with certainty that it is in your possession. There would be no point in acceeding to your wishes otherwise."