Chapter Eighteen #2
The lady reached to squeeze the back of his hand where it rested on the table.
“I never realized,” she said with concern in her tone, “that you and yours were so tied to the stability of this great country. I suppose I should have known. I mean, why would one of the heads of the Home Office tend to Mrs. Taylor’s death, a woman who was only significant to her family and to me. ”
“It is my fault,” he told her, “for I have never explained how Duncan saved each of his ‘sons.’ Prior to coming to live with his lordship, we were each in danger from people who should have been supporting us, from our relations, and it was necessary for us to learn to protect ourselves and to save our respective earldoms. The stability of the aristocracy means the United Kingdom knows continued prosperity. None of us ever really discuss our lives—what happened that brought us to Lord Duncan’s notice—other than with each other.
I should have been more open in our conversations.
” He shrugged with a bit of embarrassment.
“Old habits are hard to break. We were taught to trust each other. Until Lord Orson chose to marry Lady Emma Donaghue, none of us ever admitted to wishing for something beyond our government obligations and our earldoms.” He smiled easily.
“Though he never speaks of it, Orson someday hopes to be Prime Minister. Now, Marksman and Lady Theodora are engaged. Beaufort reportedly has his eyes on a woman none of us would have considered suitable.” Benjamin chuckled.
“But then again, my brother Beaufort is a crazy Irishman and enjoys bucking English traditions. What holds us together as ‘brothers,’ is how our families were ripped from beneath us before we were old enough to know what was what. Even so, I am one of the fortunate ones, for my mother survived, but I dearly miss my father each day of my life. I hear his voice in my head with each decision I make.”
She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I am grieved that I never considered how…”
“It does not matter how it was between us on all the yesterdays,” he was quick to say. “We have come to a better understanding, have we not.”
“We have,” she said with a small smile.
Mr. Patterson returned with their first course; therefore, Benjamin slipped his hand into his lap, but he was sorry to break their connection. “Tell me,” he instructed, “did you choose your three assistants?”
“Four,” she was quick to say, “but only three on any given day. A mother and daughter will share one of the positions. Mrs. and Miss Karnes. Mrs. Karnes has three smaller children at home. Someone must be available to tend to the little ones. Mrs. Karnes’s needlework is more accurate than is Miss Charlotte’s, but Charlotte’s hemming is superior.
I shall let them know who is to come each day based on what Mr. Sustar sends over for our efforts.
We also hired a Mrs. Geoffrey, as well as a Miss Adolph.
Both were quite adept in the closeness of their stitches and their speed of completion.
Mrs. Gabriel hired a Mrs. Jennings to come in three to four days per week.
The good lady says she wants to monogram all the linens in your house. ”
Benjamin chuckled. “And what monogram has the good lady chosen for this task?”
“The one that includes your Christian initial with the ‘T’ dropping into the ‘L,’ and the ‘B’ attached to the main stem. You recall the drawings I showed you?” she asked with a grin. “I suppose she did not ask which you preferred?”
“I just made up my mind. It is a good thing I agree with the woman.”
The tenor of their days together changed quickly as Miss Whitchurch was no longer absent from the house overnight.
The lady proved herself very conscientious when it came to her duty to Mr. Sustar, for she realized her situation was not a common one for people in her position.
However, now, he hoped, they would have more time to develop a normal relationship.
The lady was no longer so exhausted, and after her day was finished, they spent several hours each of the past two evenings, both before and after his time in Parliament, reading together, discussing what most interested them, or playing chess.
The lady proved to be a worthy opponent, and Benjamin was beginning to accept this could be his future.
He would admit, but only to himself, that he wished to kiss her more often than he should, but he was simply happy to know a “normalcy” missing from his life since the day his blessed father had died.
Therefore, it was with a heavy heart that he told her on Friday evening, “I should advise you,” he said as they shared his library, “that the Home Office’s investigation regarding the French marquis that I mentioned previously is likely coming to a head.
Duncan said as much when we were at Parliament this evening.
” Actually, Duncan had said much more, but Benjamin did not wish to frighten the lady.
As he knew she would, she looked up in concern, a fact that went a long way in presenting Benjamin with the hope she would accept his offer of marriage. “What does that entail, my lord?”
“Likely, I will be away from Macalhey House for several days,” he explained.
“Is this venture dangerous?” she pleaded.
“It could be,” he responded in hesitation, but, if she was to accept his hand in marriage, this would be a part of her life also.
She should be made aware of his commitment to protecting his country and its citizens.
“But my brothers and I are accustomed to dangerous situations. We have received special training…”
She set her sewing aside and presented him with a look of concern. “Is there a means I may assist you, my lord? You have executed so much to protect me and the child.”
Benjamin smiled upon her. “You just did. It has been forever since someone worried about me.” He shrugged off his sentimentality. “I will not know when the government means to move. It will be at the last minute, and I will be required to respond, so if I must cancel plans…”
“I shall know disappointment, my lord, but I shall offer up a prayer for your safe return to your home and those who admire you,” she said softly.
Though Benjamin had warned Miss Whitchurch of the inevitable, the pivotal situation had arrived before even he had expected.
Evidently, Miss Audrey Moreau had passed word to Lionel Carter and Alexander Marksman of a particular date on her uncle’s calendar and that date coincided with information the Home Office had received on John Yates, a known forger of bank notes, plans for a meeting.
Evidently, Yates, one of the infamous William Booth’s cohorts, and Miss Moreau’s uncle meant to flood the Bank of England with expertly printed forgeries, crippling England’s markets and bringing doubt to its allies in their business with Bonaparte.
Duncan had issued orders for all of them to assist Lord Liverpool’s men in preventing a catastrophe in the making.
The very evening he had spoken to Miss Whitchurch of “possibilities,” Benjamin was awakened at three in the morning by his valet.
Before he dressed for the confrontation at hand, he quickly scribbled a note for Mr. McCormack to present to Miss Whitchurch when the lady awoke.
Benjamin wished to tell her personally and say a proper farewell, but the note must suffice.
He had never considered what many of his fellow officers of the Home Office must face daily.
They held responsibilities to home and loved ones, along with to their homeland.
Now, so did he. The lady and the child were not his—not officially, but he held hopes he could someday claim them.
By five on the clock, he was hidden alongside Beaufort and Graham and watching over a sleepy inn outside of London, which was to be Yates and Moreau’s meeting place.
Graham said quietly, “I have still been asking after Miss Cassandra Whitchurch. I found two constables who believe they recall seeing her. They both described her as appearing to be lost and frightened, but she did not ask for assistance.”
“Thank you for your persistence, Aaran,” Benjamin whispered. “You have served Miss Whitchurch better than I.”
“Nonsense,” Graham declared in hushed tones. “You have protected both the lady and the child. You have presented her with hope.”
“Miss Whitchurch and the boy have me thinking of following in Orson’s footsteps,” Benjamin admitted.
“Marksman has officially extended his hand to Theodora,” Aaran said with a small grin.
“I suspected as such, for everything pointed to what we have always known existed between the two,” Benjamin admitted. “I pray they will know happiness.”
Before more could be said, Duncan snuck into their hiding place.
“Listen,” Duncan said as he came closer.
“This is Liverpool’s mission; therefore, you are to follow his lordship’s orders, but I want each of you, first and foremost, to watch out for your brothers.
I am not prepared to part with any of you. ”
Duncan’s speech was similar to what he had said on previous investigations, but, then again, Benjamin did not imagine Duncan much enjoyed taking a second seat to Lord Liverpool, who would likely be named the new Prime Minister. Duncan had years of experience in such matters, and Liverpool did not.
Benjamin had been stationed in the attic with another of Duncan’s men, where they could view the approach of Mr. John Yates from the west and Lord Honfleur from the road leading to London. Moreau’s daughter rode beside him. The other major participants identified in the scheme had arrived earlier.
“Soon,” the other man, Mr. Atticus Gandy, warned in anticipation, and Benjamin tucked his medical bag close to where he sat. If any of Duncan’s men were injured, he would be called upon to assist them, and he took his responsibilities seriously.
When the signal from Liverpool came some twenty minutes later, Benjamin had been wondering what Miss Whitchurch and the child were doing.
His partner, eager for the fight, led the way down the steps from the attic.
Immediately, they were in the midst of a brawl.
Punches were thrown and blocked. Men were repeatedly knocked down, but quickly scrambled upward again.
Benjamin had little time to know whether his brothers and Duncan were safe or not as he incapacitated two of those attacking Gandy.
At length, he heard the sound of gunshots outside of the inn, and someone was frantically calling his name over the melee Fearing the worst, he shoved people from his way to follow Duncan and Beaufort who had secured the inn’s kitchen area.
Outside, Duncan pulled up suddenly, but Benjamin and Beaufort darted around him. Both Alexander and Moreau were on the ground and bleeding.
“Hurry!” Beaufort called as Benjamin skidded to a stop beside Alexander.
Benjamin realized he had left his bag inside, but Gandy ran at full speed to deliver it.
“Much appreciated,” Benjamin mumbled as he swatted Alexander’s hands from the way so he might examine his brother’s wound. Over his shoulder he ordered Graham, who was limping towards them, “We need a door.”
Meanwhile, Alexander ignored all the chaos to catch Beaufort’s arm. “Go… after… my… sister… before… Caroline… reaches… her.”
Duncan knelt beside them and claimed Alexander’s other hand. “We have you, Boy. I shan’t permit anything to happen to you.”
Alexander ignored Duncan’s assurances. Instead, he ordered. “Beaufort! Go… now!”
Beaufort assured, “I will do as you ask. Permit the others to tend you.”
With that promise, Alexander closed his eyes.
Behind him, Benjamin heard Duncan again barking orders, as Benjamin ripped the cravat from his own neck and pressed the cloth against the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
Alexander groaned, but he did not open his eyes.
Meanwhile, Benjamin probed for the bullet, drawing another groan of pain from Alexander’s lips.
“Be careful, Benjamin,” Duncan ordered.
“I am,” Benjamin assured. “I must locate the bullet.”
“I want… to be… at Marksman… Hall… when Annalise… arrives,” Alexander managed to say. “Dora should… not see… me… on the… ground.”
“The bullet must be removed and the wound dressed properly first,” Benjamin ordered.
“I mean… to go…” Alexander attempted to rise.
Benjamin pushed him back down again. “It is too dangerous. The bullet could move into your heart.”
Duncan leaned over Alexander. “If you die on this journey, I will revive you long enough to kill you again. You cannot destroy my daughter nor your sister nor me with your death. You hear me, Boy? You must will yourself to live.” He turned to one of the others. “Bring that wagon around.”
Benjamin warned, “I must object, sir. Moving him is too dangerous.”
“I understand,” Duncan stated in adamant tones. “Your concerns are so noted. Now bind the wound until we might return him to Duncan Place.”
With a frown and a doleful sigh of resignation, Benjamin did as Duncan instructed.
“Here is a door, sir,” Orson and Graham told them as they set a wooden door on the ground beside where Alexander lay.
“I have the wagon,” another of their men announced.
“Slide your arms under him as if he was a heavy box and rotate him onto the flat of the door,” Benjamin ordered.
Within a minute, Alexander was on the wooden frame and loaded on the back of the wagon.
“Give me the reins,” Duncan ordered. “Orson and Hartley, you are in charge of our part of the investigation. Thompson, with me. Keep the door steady.”
Benjamin reclaimed his medical bag and told Orson to send someone ahead to fetch Mr. Rheem. Before he was even settled beside Alexander’s body, Duncan set the horses in motion.