Somewhat Scandalous (Brambridge Novel 1) (25 page)

Dropping the stub of the cigar to the desk, Victoria swept unerringly to the door.

“That’s blackmail.” Henry knocked the cigar off the desk to the ground and rubbed at the damaged wood.

Victoria stopped at the door. “No, Henry dear, that’s common sense.” With a small wave, she left.

“Women!” Henry banged a hand on his desk and pulled it into his stomach as the underneath of his desk began to move.

“Quite right, sir. She’s a sharp biscuit is your sister and no mistake.”

“Ames? What the hell are you doing?”

“Currently, sir, I am trying to ease my cramp after hiding under the desk for two hours in an unusual knotted position.”

“Victoria was waiting for me for an hour and didn’t notice you?”

“No sir. She was too intent on drinking the Armagnac from your bottom drawer.”

“Not my Armagnac!” First the cheroots and now his drink.

“Hmm. And that lovely cake stuff you keep down there. Turron I think it was.”

“Was?”

“Er. Well yes, I got hungry whilst I was waiting too, and she did drop it on the floor when you walked in.”

“My
turron
.” It was his equivalent of an opium hit, a dose of laudanum. Better than the twist of nuts he kept stashed in his coat. “I feel a headache coming on.”

“There is some of that oatmeal stuff still in there. Ship’s biscuit I think you called it.”

“That is only for looking at in order to quell hunger, Ames, only for emergencies.”

“I rather think this might be an emergency, my lord.”

“Oh, do get out of the desk, Ames. I feel silly talking to a piece of wood.”

“Only if you promise not to hurt me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I ate your turron, and err, I was meaning to tell you that your sister knows a lot more about what is going on than you think. But. Ahem. She got there first.”

“Hmm. You have been a lot less use than I thought you would be. Less Maximus and more Minimus.” Henry laughed ruefully.

“Pardon, sir?”

Henry sighed. “Oh forget it, Ames. Just one thing, how does my sister know what’s going on?

Ames was silent for a few seconds. “Earl Harding told her, sir. Stole one of her dogs too when she set it on his ankles.”

“Good grief.” Henry rubbed at the burnt mark on his desk. “Go back to your post. Victoria and Agatha are likely to have a heart to heart tomorrow morning where Victoria will no doubt make a plan. We need to be ready for it.”

“How do you know?” Ames backed towards the door.

Henry stared at the book of Greek verse on the desk. Where the hell had
Conversations on Science
gone? “Because, Ames, it is what
I
would do.”

CHAPTER 31

“As a matter of fact, I do have a plan.” Lady Victoria Colchester put down her delicate teacup and observed Agatha with glassy eyes. Bright May sunshine shone through the tall, glass windows that surrounded the morning room on two sides.

Agatha blinked. Using the excuse of a ride to justify her early morning start, she had saddled one of the mares they had brought with them down from London. She had ridden the mare cursorily around the Berale House estate and then re-entered the house.

“These silly men have been running around putting two and two together and getting five.
And someone obviously wants them to do that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Firstly, you have to believe in your absolute innocence.” That seemed easy enough to Agatha. They had been through this before.

“And then in light of that you come across several questions.” Victoria stopped to take another sip of tea and bite of her toast. Nimbly she broke a piece off and threw it to her dog. Agatha waited as she cooed over the small animal and lifted it into her lap.

“What questions?” she asked impatiently.

“Firstly, why does everyone believe you are
Monsieur Herr
?”

“Hmm, I’d like to know that too.” Stretching her arms, Harriet stumbled into the morning room and peered blearily at the laden sideboard.

Agatha wrinkled her nose and raised her eyebrows.

“Too much stargazing, aunt?” Harriet yawned and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

Agatha glared at her niece, a small flush rising slowly up her nape. She turned back to the table. “I believe I was just asking why everyone wants to believe that I’m a French spy…”

Victoria looked from Agatha to her niece. “Well, as we discussed before, it is not why everyone wants to believe you are a spy, it is why the spy wants everyone to believe you are the spy.”

Agatha closed her mouth with a snap.

Victoria looked at her small audience and smiled widely.

Agatha scratched her head. “I still can’t believe it. I don’t have anyone that wishes me ill.” She flapped her hands as Harriet’s mouth formed a round O. “None of those silly rumor mongers would think of such an elaborate ruse. I mean, doing this would bring down everyone I know…”

“Goodness.” Victoria appeared thoughtful. “That is another interesting point. Especially since you are involved with my brother, the British spymaster…”

“I am not involved with your brother!”

“Hmmm… stargazing?” Harriet said innocently.

“Nothing happened.” Agatha sat down with a plump. “At least nothing to discuss with you,” she amended quietly.

Victoria put her dog on the floor. “Someone must have a reason for choosing you for their ruse. We must go back to the beginning. What happened five years ago when it all began?”

Agatha pushed her thumb back with a finger. “I was engaged, jilted, shot at, Peter died, moved to Devon…” She ticked the points off on her hand.

Victoria wrapped her arms around her body. “Why did you leave without telling me? I could have helped.”

“I received a note threatening Peter’s life, the next I knew he was dead. I thought whoever had shot at me had killed them. The note said not to tell anyone. That’s why I came to live in Devon. I couldn’t see anyone from London. I was too afraid of who might be coming to get me.”

“But you haven’t heard of anything since…” Harriet flushed.

Agatha shook her head. “There have been no notes. No one has approached me, or even shot at me.”

Thoughtfully, Victoria stirred her tea. Taking a sip, she made a face and rang the servant’s bell. “More tea please,” she said to the footman who entered quickly. As he closed the door, she turned to Agatha.

“Setting the death of your brother aside, that’s when it started. But they did not want to frame you then. They wanted to kill you yourself. Their motives must have changed since then.”

“I still ask myself why anyone would have wanted to kill me.”  Stumped, Agatha played with her fork.

“I don’t know either,” Victoria said perplexedly. “I don’t know why anyone would want to kill anyone else at all.”

The footman entered with the hot pot of boiling tea. After he had replenished the teapot, he hesitated at the door.

“Yes, what is it, John?” Victoria motioned at him to speak.

“Excusing me my Lady, but in the penny dreadfuls, murder is normally committed by a jealous lover.”

Agatha laughed as Victoria poured herself more tea. “Thank you, John, you have lightened the mood somewhat.”

The footman grimaced and closed the door softly behind him.

“Jealous lover!” Agatha snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “I’ve never had a lover.” Henry categorically did
not
count. “And whilst Charles wasn’t keen on jilting me, I don’t think he would have resorted to killing me just for the sake of the engagement!”

“I hate to say this, but you are right, Aggie. You really did not have enough time with Charles in order for that to happen.” Victoria shifted on her seat. “But what of all the other motives?”

“Hmm, jealousy, intrigue, intimacy, war, interrupted theft, knowledge, power…” Victoria and Agatha looked at Harriet in amazement. “I read the penny dreadfuls too!” Harriet shrugged sheepishly.

“Alright. What about
intimacy
?”

“What about it? I’ve already said I didn’t have any lovers!”

“Good point. Interrupted theft?”

“What?”

“Quite often when a burglar is searching a house, and they are discovered, they kill the owner of the house in order that they don’t get caught.”

“Harriet, I have never caught a thief in the act in my life.”

“Next one, then, power.”

“I don’t really have the opportunity to give anyone power.” Agatha mused. “Killing me wouldn’t have given anyone power over me, or really power over anyone else.”

“This is futile.” Victoria stood. “Nothing seems to fit properly.”

“Sit down, Victoria. I think we are on the right track.” Agatha tapped her finger on the back of the tablecloth, tracing the lace patterns. “Harriet mentioned intrigue and war in some of her motivations. It seems an elaborate plan to pass me off as a French spy. What if I’m not really the target? I only assumed that I was being shot at, when in fact it was Henry that picked up the bullet. Even though making me
Monsieur Herr
could hang me, it seems that Henry has a huge amount to lose as well if he loses the support of his war colleagues by becoming involved with me.”

“It sounds plausible…” Victoria scratched her head delicately in doubt.

Harriet put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. “So who is going after Lord Anglethorpe, then?”

“Why
Monsieur Herr
of course!” Agatha said. Harriet and Victoria’s mouths both dropped open.

“Of course,” Victoria said slowly. “Why not give your name to someone else whilst carrying on your activities?”

“There’s just one thing.” Agatha shook her head. “When I was on the beach last night, I saw Henry walking up the beach with a woman from one of Renard’s boats.”

Victoria frowned. “Renard?”

“He’s a smuggler,” Harriet said distinctly. “Everything he has is for sale. He’s well known in Brambridge.”

“Oh.” Victoria took a sip of her tea. “Did you see him there?”

Agatha shook her head. “No. I was under a hedge shivering at that point. Anyway, the point is, this woman looked awfully familiar, but I didn’t recognize her. And she also tried to seduce Henry in the fifteen minutes they were on the beach.”

Victoria choked, spraying water everywhere. “We must ah… tell him he’s in danger from
Monsieur Herr
.”

Agatha stared out of the window. “Unfortunately he went off for a morning ride at around five o’clock.” She hadn’t been able to sleep.

“You know, that is the same time as the Freddie and Mr. Lovall left too.” Harriet spoke pensively. “They thought they were being quiet, but the horses’ hooves clattered on the cobbles at the gate.”

Victoria dabbed at her skirts with a napkin. “This woman must know something. Why else are they all following her?”

“The stable was empty of all but a few horses when I took my horse out to ride.” Agatha closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. “But the first stable was locked closed.”

“They must have taken her to the stables.” Dropping the sodden napkin on a side table, Victoria rose gracefully to her feet and held out a hand to Agatha. “Quickly, we must find out what this woman knows!”

Jolting to her feet, Agatha let go of Victoria’s hand and stumbled into the hall. Pushing past a surprised Smythe, she unbolted the front door and ran down the drive, followed closely by Victoria and Harriet.

“Whose is that horse? Jaquard will be most upset.” Victoria gasped at the large grey cropping the hydrangeas in the middle of the ornamental lawn.

“Mine.” Agatha picked up her skirts breathlessly. “It was too far to walk from the stables to the house so I just let him go out here. I was in rather a hurry.” Darting onto the grass, she grabbed hold of the horse’s rein. “We’d better take him back to the stables.”

CHAPTER 32

Henry stood in the deserted taproom of the Fountain Inn and put his head in his hands. His friends and colleagues were meant to be the finest spies and operatives that England had to offer. As he listened to the conversation in the private room, however, his belief was sorely tested.

“Come on, old chap, we must get going!” Anthony’s frustrated tones echoed loudly out into the tap room.

“But I’ve barely had any sleep!” Bill yawned audibly. “And I’ve just arrived.”

“Your beauty can wait, Bill, this woman apparently can’t. She’s going back on the next boat in.”

“But why do we have to do this so early?”

Freddie’s unmistakable laugh shook the window casements. “I can’t believe that for a man that is used to getting up at the crack of dawn to tend to his forge, you have the ability to complain so much about this.”

“I didn’t sleep well. It doesn’t help when bloody Agatha ‘twenty knives’ Beauregard is back in the village saying she has been stargazing from what you have said.”

Henry stiffened as he heard the mirth in Bill’s voice. He coughed loudly and rapped on the private room door. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed his head in and glared. “When you are finished, I’ll be waiting outside for you.” He withdrew without catching anyone in the eye. After a short silence, the scraping of chairs against stone filled the air. Anthony was the first to leave the inn. But the bickering still hadn’t stopped.

“Hmm, I can imagine that is a bit disconcerting. Hold on, old chap, I’ll give you a leg up. Amazed you could find a horse big enough to hold you.” Freddie laced his fingers together and held them at knee height, standing next to an enormous shire horse that nipped him on the shoulders.

“It’s all muscle,” Bill huffed.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Look, you two. Shut up. Can we please go?”

Bill and Freddie looked at each other and stopped bickering instantly. Henry watched as Anthony wheeled his horse in a tight circle in the road. “You’re lucky Earl Harding isn’t here. With his notoriously bad temper he would have walloped both of you.”

“I think old Hawk Anglethorpe has caught a bit of that temper.”

“I am here you know,” Henry said quietly.