Chapter Twenty-Three

Raven summoned his estate manager and his majordomo, the two men he entrusted with his life. They’d be tested in great measure over the next few days and weeks. He explained the details of the group of investors who embarked on a new venture, which would benefit them and England.

“As Englishmen, I ask for your help. You may refuse if you wish. I can tell you about the importance of what we can do.” He flattered them, but made no demands and gave them a general verbal outline of the cartel’s goals.

With a somber look, he described the possible perils. With his hands steepled, he said in a low, hoarse voice, “I do believe my life is in danger.” He noted the men listened in stunned silence and paid strict attention.

Seigfreid asked, “But how can we help and protect you, Your Grace? With so many strangers about the estate, it will be a monumental task.”

“You will have a list of the guests. Prince Nicholas has brought his staff. So at least, we know we can rule out our people. Seigfreid, if you have to, hire townsmen you know and trust to keep a cool eye on all the events. Report any suspicious activity to me and me alone.”

He placed his right hand under his chin in thought. “Randall, I trust you to manage the household staff. While I don’t wish to put fear in your heart, keep a watch for the possibility of poison.” He heard a gasp, yet continued. “Don’t allow anyone new into the household. If you have already hired outside help, and by that I mean, outside our estate, make up some excuse, pay them off and have them gone. Take Cook Phoebe into your confidence, but try not to panic her. She is a bright woman and knows the kitchen staff well, but frightens easily.”

Raven reached across his desk to retrieve paperwork. “I don’t want my guests to be fearful so no word of this will be divulged outside of our inner circle. This is imperative. Also, know you both will be well rewarded. However, you may refuse this assignment, and there will be no retribution. You have my word on this.”

Randall asked if Raven knew of anyone specific who would want to harm him and his cause. He placed his fingers to the right side of his temple and rubbed in circles, pondering how to answer but then said, “There are many men in high places who would want to see me dead with England bent over in capitulation to stronger international forces. I can’t let that happen. I love my country too much.”

He wondered if he should continue since it might cause them more consternation than necessary. The stakes were high, but he decided they needed to know the truth and the hazards. The better informed they became, the more alert everyone would be.

“All these years you have known me as an honorable man. Diligence is what is needed and a mind open to inquiry. No question will go unanswered. Both of you would be excellent in this regard. Trust those whom you have known over the years. This plot to remove me from this earth has been in the cauldron for quite some time. I fear that spies are in the village. At times in London, I surmised someone following me.”

Parched from speaking, he poured water into a glass. “Our country is in the midst of rapid changes and there are those of the old nobility who have determined my advanced ways cause discontent among tenant farmers of their estates. To share profits is not every land owner’s goal, but I want my estate to set the standard for which all others will want to identify.” He paused again, retrieved his monocle and found a file on his desk.

“In particular, take care to note the movements of the Lady Samantha. I would not want her injured because of any involvement with me. She is never to be alone unless, of course, I’m in her company. This is critical.”

They went on to speak about the use of the stable grooms, footmen, and the house servants. Seigfreid suggested, “Perhaps we can use some of the villagers who could dress as hunters, where it would be natural to carry shotguns. With the vast grounds, the more eyes, the better,” he posed.

Raven nodded approval. “That is an excellent idea. Implement the plan at once.” His forehead creased in concern. “In fact, confine your trust to the Larsen’s, Elliott’s and Flanders’. Between them, they know many people and would spot strangers to report back to you.”

They even devised a sentence which, when used, would let him know of the need to meet or that a danger presented itself. The sentence was Your Grace, a message from the Prime Minister.

Intrigued with the information they learned. Seigfreid spoke first, “We are privileged, Your Grace, that you share your concerns.”

Randall cleared his throat and added, “It’s unheard of in service for you to employ such confidence in us. It’s also an awesome responsibility. I believe I speak for both of us when I vow we will not let you down even if our lives depended on it.”

“Let us hope none of us are in jeopardy. My thanks to you,” Raven’s voice cracked with sentiment.

He proceeded with other instructions to them. “These are letters to the international investors. I have advised them of the circumstances, and the need for caution. These other letters are to be delivered to the person at the Israelite bank and investment firm of Rothschild in London, for transmission to the associates in the cartel,” he instructed. “Also, assign a household staff person or persons to become our eyes and ears for all that goes on, inside and out of the house.” He handed the letters to Randall in a neat package. “Just let me know whom you assign to a task so I’m not suspicious of the wrong individuals.”

Raven rose from his mahogany chair and clasped his hands behind his back. “As much as possible, let’s see if we can get through this week unscathed.” With a heavy heart and somewhat weary, he warned, “Above all, trust no one you don’t know. I can’t stress this enough.” He added, “There is a gentleman by the name of Lord Dudley. He might take it upon himself to visit the village and may not come in gentleman’s clothes, but be aware of anyone who asks a lot of questions. He is tall and thin, with a black goatee and the disposition of an alley cat.” After a few moments, he said, “There is also a Lord Hastings who is a known anarchist. Have someone assigned to the pubs to keep an eye out for him. I believe he has reddish brown hair.”

“What if they do nose around, Your Grace?” asked Seigfreid.

“Have them arrested on some pretense. Dudley is a known rake and libertine. Attempted rape comes to mind,” Raven stated. “Since I’m the Chief Magistrate of this district, he will have to come before me. He knows I’m familiar with him.” He gave them a wry grin.

“Concerning Hastings, he does not dirty his hands but inspires others to do his deeds. There is also a Sir Henry Preston, head of the competitive gas light company, who is suspect, but I doubt he would dare show his face here after what transpired here ten years ago. He was a physician then.” Almost in an afterthought, he added, “Make sure the small prison is made livable. That ought to keep the rogues out of sorts for a few days.”

For a moment, both men’s eyes glistened. “Perhaps we can seek the help of Malford and his daughters?” asked Seigfreid.

Raven remembered them. “Ah, yes. They are pretty young things who like to flirt.”

“True, Your Grace, but there is no scandal attached to them. They keep their skirts down if I may be so bold to say.” Randall nodded to the estate manager.

“Malford, as a jailer, could make a man’s life miserable,” Seigfreid said. “His six foot five-inch frame and over two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle power can intimidate. He is also much in your debt, Your Grace.”

“When Malford’s wife took ill,” Randall said, “you allowed him to live rent-free until she recovered. Malford’s family ate well all those months, thanks to your largess.”

As a last thought, Raven said, “Seigfreid, I will have a letter prepared for you to have delivered tomorrow. The envelope will contain my last will. You know the name of my barrister in London. If anything happens, contact him at once. The two of you will be gifted with an annual retainer for the rest of your lives as long as you live here.”

He engaged their eyes with his own in their evident shock. Many landowners didn’t provide such benefits.

“In the event I don’t make myself clear, I thank you for your years of service. Your loyalty is treasured.”

He didn’t want sentimentality to overwhelm them, but it became akin to being present at his funeral arrangements. “My brother, Cedric, is my heir and the next future duke, serve him well.” His tone became more than somber as they watched his eyes scan the room.

“Your Grace, do you feel your life is in that much peril?” asked Seigfreid.

“Yes,” he answered. “While I don’t want or plan to die, there is so much we all can do for England. What matters is that the failure of this cartel will hurt our country in ways you can’t imagine. I trust you both with important political information, and I do this because I know your hearts. I know your love for England.”

“I’m fearful, my lord. Not for me, but for you.” Seigfreid spoke in a whisper with downcast eyes.

Randall nodded in agreement.

Raven thought he saw tears well up as they left his study in absolute silence. He heard their comments in the corridor as they left.

Randall whispered to his companion, “I’m resolved to keep him alive.”

Seigfreid said. “If this Lady Samantha is important to him, I’ll protect her too. He deserves happiness, however, measured it may be, with all this turmoil about us.”

Randall spoke, “I find myself on the lookout for shadows in the corners of these corridors. We will need inside guards clothed as servants.”