With so little time, Lady Martindale reluctantly agreed that a ball was out of the question and even more reluctantly yielded to Camilla’s insistence that the guest list for the wedding be kept to moderate proportions. The eventual compromise was a decision to hold a dinner party for family and close friends at Alveston House a week before the happy day – by which time everyone should have arrived in town.
Lord Alveston followed the betrothed couple within three days, bringing Guy to reside under his eye in Berkeley Square. He also brought the latest news on the investigation with him.
‘Mrs Blane has been placed in comfortable confinement in Whitehall, attended by her maid,’ he told Adam. ‘The older grandson has followed her, taken lodgings nearby and is trying to find lawyers to represent her. He’s also hoping for permission to visit.’
‘Is he likely to get it?’
‘Not unless he undertakes to persuade her that her best hope lies in cooperation. As yet, she still refuses to accept quite how much trouble she is in and has convinced herself that her age and sex will protect her.’
‘Which, of course, they are doing,’ observed Adam dryly.
‘Temporarily, yes. For the rest, news of her arrest has loosened Ernest Wilson’s tongue. And while Sir Oswald’s people dissect your and Rainham’s reports, Millie’s transcripts and the contents of the French despatch, the Fordyce bank account has been frozen and numerous new arrests are taking place. The Lydd solicitor who handled the Fordyce finances; Riding Officer Tranter; and Harold Deacon of Deacon’s Bank. The general belief is that it is Hester Blane or Deacon who holds the key to the ongoing espionage trail and that one of them will eventually surrender it. Either way, Intelligence has taken over and the entire matter is now completely out of my hands.’
Adam wasn’t sorry to hear this and neither, when he told her of it, was Camilla.
‘Good,’ she said, pulling him down for a kiss. ‘When will your family arrive?’
‘In a few days, weather permitting.’
‘Including the Virtuoso Earl?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘I want to hear him play, of course. And is there any news from Rainham?’
‘He went to Wales to fetch his wife and is on his way.’ He grinned at her. ‘You know your adopted big brother won’t let you get married without him.’
Adam’s family managed to arrive on the same day. First, his mother, Max, Frances and Leo; and a few hours later, Arabella and Julian – for once, without the children.
Immediately drawn into the warmth of her new family, Camilla was soon shopping with Arabella and Frances, meeting Leo’s incessant teasing with quips of her own and spending hours getting to know Adam’s warm and lovely mother, listening to tales of his youth and going over final details of the wedding.
The Rainhams arrived the day before the dinner party, as did Lord and Lady Wingham. It wasn’t until the evening itself that Adam learned that the Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe had also been invited due to the distant family connection … as had Alveston’s friend, the Marquis of Amberley and his Marchioness.
It was a large and merry party. Seated between Rockliffe and Viscount Wingham, Camilla was torn between the duke’s dry wit and Sebastian’s wicked one. Further along the table, she could see Adam laughing with Vivian Rainham over something which, judging by his pained expression, Rainham himself didn’t find especially funny. But it was not until everyone repaired to the drawing room that talk became more general … and Leo, who had spent most of dinner studying the marchioness, asked Amberley if he could paint her.
Several nearby conversations halted to listen.
‘You’re an artist?’ asked Amberley, surprised.
‘In an amateur way as yet – but yes,’ said Leo. ‘Just portraits, you know – and I’d like to try capturing that elusive expression in her ladyship’s eyes.’ Leo hesitated, baffled by the quality of the smile the marquis exchanged with his wife. Then, turning to where his soon-to-be new sister sat conversing with his mother, he said, ‘Camilla? Can I drag you away for a few minutes?’
‘Me?’ she asked, baffled. ‘Why?’
‘Come and see.’ And when Adam also rose, ‘Just Camilla, if you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’ Adam sat down again. ‘But if she sends for the cheese-grater – run.’
‘Cheese-grater?’ queried Leo, leading Camilla from the room while laughter and demands for an explanation broke out. ‘Your weapon of choice, is it?’
‘Don’t laugh. It’s been known to make men cry. Where are we going?’
‘The small dining room. There’s a bridal gift you haven’t seen yet.’
Camilla was fairly certain she’d seen all of the gifts. Goodness only knew she’d been kept busy writing ‘thank you’ notes as each one arrived. ‘How did that happen?’
‘Because I only put it there a little while ago.’
Leo led her into the room which, at first glance, looked as it had the last time she’d seen it. Dinner services, crystal glassware and a good many porcelain ornaments … amongst it all, several things she remembered returning last year. But Leo guided her to the far corner where a large rectangular shape hidden beneath a dust-cover reposed on a chair.
Gesturing towards it and sounding slightly tense, he said, ‘You can look.’
Camilla lifted the sheet away … and then froze, staring at the portrait. It was Adam, shown as she had never yet seen him but as his brothers must doubtless have done many times. He was in his shirt-sleeves, engaged in polishing a long, gleaming blade. The effect was immediate … as if he had merely stilled briefly and might continue working at any moment. But it was the face that caught and held Camilla’s gaze. It wasn’t merely an uncannily accurate image of flesh and bone and the familiar half-smile lurking behind the cobalt eyes but something that spoke of what lay behind those things; the quiet but indomitable strength of character … and the innate integrity.
Something shifted inside her chest and she pressed both hands hard over her mouth for a moment before saying unevenly, ‘This is for me?’
‘Yes – and to embarrass Adam, of course. But yes, it’s for you. If you like it?’
‘Like it?’ Camilla threw her arms around him. ‘Oh Leo – it’s wonderful! Thank you!’
He patted her shoulder and, to give her time to compose herself as she stepped back brushing fingers over wet lashes, ‘I began it months ago but had put it aside, so I had to burn the midnight oil to get it finished.’ He hesitated. ‘I’d meant to show it to you tonight anyway … but do you mind if we also show it to Lord Amberley? I’m hoping it will help persuade him to let me paint his wife.’
She shook her head. ‘Of course I don’t mind. And you should show it to everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had half a dozen commissions by the end of the evening.’
He picked up the painting and grinned. ‘I’m not that optimistic.’
As they re-entered the drawing-room, Max said, ‘Just in time. Adam was about to organise a search party.’
Adam, who hadn’t been about to do any such thing, raised a glass to his older brother and an eyebrow at his wife-to-be. ‘Are the rest of us to be let into the secret?’
‘Yes.’ Camilla pointed to a bureau. ‘There, Leo – where everyone can see.’
He set the portrait down, stepped away from it and folded his arms.
The room fell silent for a moment before a buzz of appreciation broke out and people rose and walked over to get a better look. But after a few minutes, Rosalind Amberley said, ‘The only permission you need to paint me is mine, Mr Brandon. And you may have it … on condition that you paint my husband as well. Will you?’
‘Certainly – if his lordship agrees,’ said Leo, looking shy and a little stunned.
‘You think I’ll have a choice?’ grinned Amberley, reaching out to shake Leo’s hand. ‘That is a remarkable piece of work. Where did you study?’
‘Venice, mostly, but also in Florence for a time,’ shrugged Leo. And then, finally meeting Adam’s narrowed eyes and noting the hint of colour on his cheekbones, ‘Yes, I know. Right now, you’d like to kill me. Fortunately, Camilla is on my side in this and won’t let you.’
On the following afternoon, Camilla received a summons to join Adam, Rainham and her uncle at Alveston House. Adam met her in the hall and, after they had taken advantage of one of the few brief and, in the last week, rare moments they had alone to share an embrace, she said, ‘Do you know what this is about?’
‘No.’ He tucked her hand in his arm and strolled unhurriedly towards the library. ‘But since Rainham is here as well, I suspect we might hazard a guess.’
‘Yes. And I sincerely hope Uncle realises you and I are on leave.’
‘I daresay he does. But if not, I’m sure you’ll remind him.’
The atmosphere in the library was that of Wilfred Street rather than Berkeley Square and the Earl of Alveston had become Goddard, Head of Section who, as soon as they were seated, came directly to the point.
‘An unexpected development in the Blane affair has brought about swift and significant results to the whole enquiry. Sir Oswald, of course, would like to give the credit for this to the Intelligence Service. I have pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that it is thanks to M Section that Hester Blane is in custody – and that, had she not been, the events of the last three days could not have happened.’
‘So?’ demanded Camilla. ‘What did happen?’
‘An attempt was made to murder her.’ He watched Rainham, Adam and Camilla exchange startled glances. ‘You are thinking that, since she was under guard with two officers on duty at all times, this shouldn’t have been possible? I entirely agree.’
‘Heads will doubtless roll,’ murmured Rainham. ‘How embarrassing for Sir Oswald.’
Adam frowned slightly. ‘You said an attempt, sir. It failed?’
‘Purely by chance, yes. But perhaps I should start at the beginning – which is with Corbeau’s despatch. You will recall that, when I arrived at Dragon Hall, Vincent had not finished decoding it – so I didn’t learn the contents of the last page until I got back to town.’
‘You got back two weeks ago,’ observed Camilla acidly. ‘And you didn’t think we had any interest in learning it, too?’
‘At the time, Rainham wasn’t here and you and Adam were walking around in a haze of orange blossom – so no. I didn’t,’ returned Goddard irascibly. ‘However, if I’m allowed to do so without interruption, I’ll tell you now.’
‘Certainly, sir,’ said Adam blandly. ‘We are all ears.’
Rainham raised a sardonic brow at him but said nothing.
‘Well, then … I expected the latter part to be about military matters in the Colonies. It wasn’t. It concerned a plot against Lord North … a scenario which those involved hoped would result in a change of government.’
‘Ambitious,’ remarked Rainham.
‘The original intention was to achieve this by discrediting North personally. But the advice contained in Corbeau’s despatch was that, character destruction being a lengthy and chancy business, a bullet would do the job quicker.’
Camilla sucked in a breath; Rainham swore quietly; and Adam said, ‘That idea must have already occurred to them.’
‘And been discarded? Yes. Certainly they are now vociferously repudiating it. However, I am getting ahead of myself. As soon as Vincent decoded that part of the despatch – and since I was absent – he took the matter to the Prime Minister’s office. North was warned and all the necessary measures were put in place to ensure his safety. But there was little else that could be done because Corbeau’s report refers to the English plotters by code names with nothing to tell us who they actually are.’ Goddard leaned back, grimly smiling. ‘That was true until they tried to poison Hester Blane.’
‘How?’ asked Camilla. ‘No one outside Intelligence should have known about her – let alone where she was.’
‘Quite. And yet, two nights ago, her dinner was accompanied by a box of sweetmeats – the sort made of coloured and fruit-flavoured marzipan. Fortunately for Mrs Blane, she dislikes marzipan … so she gave the box to her maid who ate almost half of it. Within an hour, the poor woman was seized with violent cramps, vomiting and fits. Within two, she was dead. At that point, Sir Oswald’s fellows did manage to get a couple of things right. They immediately summoned a doctor and, having established that the marzipan was the only thing the maid had eaten which Mrs Blane had not, started trying to trace its source. The errand boy was found and questioned but couldn’t name the person who’d paid him to make the delivery. He was, however, able to furnish a description.’
The hint of satisfaction in the last words caused Camilla to say, ‘Someone we know?’
‘Yes … but I’ll come back to him in a moment. The death of the maid was a turning point. It finally made Hester Blane aware of her own peril. She realised that, if her former masters could get to her whilst under government protection, they could get to her anywhere and that her life was therefore hanging by a thread. So she started screaming that she’d talk – but only to me. Naturally, Sir Oswald did his damnedest to persuade her otherwise but she refused to budge … and so, very reluctantly, I was sent for.’
Silence yawned about them until Rainham said impatiently, ‘And?’
‘And I spent a couple of exhausting but highly informative hours with the lady. To cut a long story short, in return for enhanced protection now and a more lenient sentence than she could otherwise expect, she gave me the names we needed. One of them was the gentleman described by the errand boy. A tall, skeletal man with white hair and spectacles.’
‘Barrowby?’ snapped Rainham. And when Goddard nodded, ‘He’s a boil on the backside of humanity. Vivian thinks he beats his wife. And the other fellow?’
‘Humphrey Modiford; drowning in debt and barely keeping himself out of the Fleet. Both men were immediately arrested and I was happy to leave them to Sir Oswald’s tender – or not so tender – mercies.’ He paused and then added simply, ‘Both of them also sit on the board of the East India Company.’
‘Is that what all this has been about?’ frowned Camilla. ‘The East India Company?’
‘Yes. The Company has been floundering ever since the debacle in Massachusetts six years ago. It has repeatedly lobbied Lord North to reduce the tax on tea but he hasn’t done so – probably due, in varying degrees, to the war in the Colonies. According to their confessions, Barrowby and Modiford came to the conclusion that many, if not all, of the Company’s problems could be solved by replacing Lord North’s government. However, it became apparent to them quite early on that they wouldn’t achieve this without outside help … and fortunately they knew where to find it.’
‘Christ,’ muttered Rainham disgustedly. ‘They went to the French.’
‘Precisely. And the French, busy assisting their Colonial friends to throw off the yoke of Britain and only too eager for any opportunity to cause disruption on these shores were delighted to be offered a new channel of communication between their agents.’
‘And the parts of Corbeau’s despatch relating to Doctor Bancroft and the Chesapeake Bay area?’ asked Adam. ‘Where were they supposed to go?’
‘According to Barrowby, they were destined for an under-secretary in the Foreign Office. He, too, is under arrest and busy protesting his innocence. Sir Oswald will doubtless get to the bottom of it in time. But happily, no real harm has been done. Perhaps it never would have been. But treason is never acceptable … and it is thanks to all of you that we held the key to it in the person of Hester Blane. Had we not done so, the conspirators’ identities would still be a mystery.’ Goddard smiled. ‘You’ve also successfully crippled – for the foreseeable future, at any rate – the largest smuggling operation Romney Marsh has seen for some years. And last but not least, the information in Corbeau’s despatch enabled the Intelligence Service to preserve Doctor Bancroft’s reputation with Mr Franklin. So, all in all … well done.’
‘Thank you,’ drawled Rainham. ‘But as usual no medals, I presume?’
‘You presume correctly. Warm yourselves with the knowledge that your efficiency and tenacity continue to outweigh the intensely annoying qualities two of you possess in abundance … and which the third, if he remains with us long enough, will also doubtless acquire far sooner than I would like.’
On the following evening, Rainham and Sebastian bore the Brandon brothers and a very reluctant Julian off to Sinclairs where they were joined by Amberley and Rockliffe. Then everyone settled in one of the upstairs dining salons under the personal supervision of Monsieur Delacroix.
After a convivial and leisurely dinner, some of them embarked on a game of basset while others chose to take their port to the comfortable armchairs by the fire. Being one of the latter, Adam joined Julian and was just about to speak to him when Rockliffe drifted over saying, ‘Your younger brother is a very gifted artist. Has he told you that I have commissioned a portrait of Adeline and our children?’
‘Only three or four times so far.’
‘Ah.’ The duke smiled. ‘I understand from Max that your own talent lies in the sword – hence the subject matter of the portrait. I wonder if you might care to join me at Angelo’s one morning? I fence there regularly but it is many years since I last used a sword. It would be interesting to discover if I retain any skill.’
Surprised, Adam rose and bowed. ‘Thank you. It would be a pleasure.’
Rockliffe nodded. ‘The day after tomorrow, then? Bring your brothers, by all means – perhaps also Sebastian? He is always amusing. And he fences rather well, too.’
When the duke moved away, Julian said, ‘I hope Leo wants to be a famous artist.’
‘Well, if he’s going to be an artist at all, famous is probably better than starving in a garret.’ And quickly before they could be interrupted, ‘I want a favour, Julian – and I’m hoping you’ll have some idea of how it can be managed.’
A smile touched the dark green eyes. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’
While the bachelor party was in full swing at Sinclairs, the ladies had gathered in Mount Street. There were many failed attempts to persuade Camilla to give away details of her wedding gown … and much discussion about Leo’s portraits – not merely the one of Adam but also those that Frances and Arabella said he had painted of Max and Julian.
‘The only portrait of Sebastian was done when he was eight,’ sighed Cassie. ‘I would love to have one of him as he is now, in … in …’ She stopped. ‘How would one describe it?’
‘The full flower of his manhood?’ suggested Arabella innocently.
Three ladies choked over their wine and Frances said, ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t put it to Sebastian in quite that way, Cassie.’
‘Oh – I don’t know. It would be worth it just to see his face.’
In a far corner of the room, Camilla and Vivian Rainham sat in quiet conversation.
‘I gather Mr Brandon was shot by this Blane female I’ve heard about whilst protecting you,’ said Vivian. ‘That says a great deal about him.’
‘And all of it true,’ nodded Camilla. And with a sudden smile, ‘Rainham says you will put up with black eyes and so forth but not bullet-holes.’
‘I’m glad he’s registered that fact. One has to draw the line somewhere, after all.’
‘One does.’ Camilla stared at her hands for a moment and then said abruptly, ‘Uncle Hugh wants both Adam and me to remain in the Section.’
‘Of course he does. From what I’ve heard, Mr Brandon is exceptionally well-suited to the work.’ A shrewd sideways glance. ‘I take it you’re not sure?’
‘No. What I do for the Section is one thing. What may be asked of Adam is quite another. He took a bullet in the arm but he might just as easily have been killed. And it’s all very well Uncle saying he’s never yet lost an agent but …’
‘There’s a first time for everything?’
‘Yes. And I don’t want that first time to be Adam.’ She sighed. ‘He’d refuse Uncle if I asked him to … but I can’t do it. Aside from it not being fair, he’d be wasting his talents. On the other hand, I’m going to be worried sick if he’s sent away on Section business.’
‘Assignments outside London are rare,’ offered Vivian. ‘This recent one is the first time Gil has been required to leave town. And until now, no one has ever been shot.’
‘I know. But I’m not sure I can be as – as stoical about it as Rainham says you are.’
‘Stoical? He says that, does he? How little he knows.’ And when Camilla stared at her, ‘If he believes I accept his other life easily … if he thinks me tolerant of it, he tells me the truth.’ A slight shrug. ‘I prefer that to being kept in the dark … as, I imagine, would you.’