CHAPTER 14
Seeing von Münch come to a halt, Wrexford quickened his steps over the tangled grasses and brambles. “Why don’t you let me go first from here?”
They had left the well-tended footpath to make their way to the rounded jut of land that stuck out into the lake. Though it was called Duck Island, it was really a peninsula, as a narrow finger of overgrown earth and unpruned trees kept it connected to the rest of the park.
The isolated place was, however, not an area that attracted gentlemen of the ton. Dark and uninviting, it had an aura of wildness about it. As a breeze swirled, thorns scraped at their shoes, and gnarled branches clawed at their coats.
The librarian ceded his place with a grateful nod. “A perfect place for privacy,” he whispered, his face hidden in the shadows. The dancing lights of the party looked very far away as they started forward.
Raising his voice slightly, von Münch gave a tentative hail. “Monsieur Dalambert?”
The only answer was a rustling of leaves.
Wrexford looked around, feeling a niggling of unease. “Stay behind me,” he cautioned, then slowly pushed his way through the tangle of bushes.
“Monsieur Dalambert?” This time the call from von Münch was louder and more urgent.
“I’m here,” came the answer. Twigs snapped as a figure stepped out from the leafy shadows into a tiny clearing bordered by a cluster of low bushes that sloped down to the water’s edge.
The Frenchman, noted Wrexford, was dressed in the height of fashion—a snugly tailored coat of claret-colored wool, high shirt points, an elaborate cravat trimmed in lace. His face looked to have turned a bit fleshy, but his eyes appeared sharp.
“Thank you for coming—” began von Münch.
“This is not a social visit,” said Dalambert curtly.
“We need not go through the motions of polite pleasantries.” The Frenchman’s gaze was on the earl, not the librarian.
“Herr von Münch explained the circumstances of your request, and I agreed to see you because as a former soldier I can’t help but feel a disgust for any man who would betray his comrades for money.
And I sympathize with your quest for justice.
But I would prefer to finish with our business as quickly as possible. ”
“As would I, monsieur,” replied Wrexford.
“I make no apologies for my actions during the war. One makes use of any opportunity to gain an advantage over one’s enemy,” continued Dalambert. “However, now that our countries are at peace, I feel that in good conscience I may tell you what I know.”
Catching a flutter of movement in the darkness just across the narrow stretch of water separating Duck Island from the edge of the park and Horse Guards Road, Wrexford suddenly shifted and took a moment to survey the area.
“I was told that this part of the park is deserted at night,” said the Frenchman as he noticed the earl’s reaction.
The earl saw nothing. And yet his time serving in military intelligence had taught him that survival often depended on trusting one’s sixth sense for trouble.
“Yes, it usually is,” he replied. “But it’s always prudent to err on the side of caution.”
“Perhaps we are both on edge,” muttered Dalambert. “As I was leaving the festivities to make my way down here, I thought someone was following me.” A shrug. “But it was just a drunken reveler who stumbled off toward Pall Mall.”
“Just give me the name of the traitor, sir.” The earl kept an eye on the edge of the park as he spoke. “And we can both be on our way.”
As Dalambert slipped a hand into his coat pocket, a dull boom suddenly shivered through the air, and a burst of fireworks momentarily lit the sky.
At the same instant, Wrexford saw a spark of light on the far side of the water.
He reacted in an instant, lunging forward and knocking both Dalambert and von Münch to the ground.
The Frenchman lay still for a moment—and then began to chuckle as he levered to his hands and knees. “It’s simply the fireworks, milord. Though I understand how a civilian would react to the unexpected sound of gunpowder exploding.”
Wrexford rose and reached down to help Dalambert up, noting that von Münch was already on his feet. “As I said,” responded the earl, “it’s prudent to err on the side of caution.” He drew the Frenchman into the trees and motioned for the librarian to follow. “I trust you’re unharmed.”
“My cravat’s knot may have suffered a mortal injury,” replied the Frenchman dryly. “But aside from that I am perfectly fine.” He brushed away the bits of leaves clinging to his sleeve. “You have excellent reflexes, milord.”
The librarian said nothing but glanced back across the water.
“Getting back to business . . .” Dalambert once again reached into his pocket. “I oversaw intelligence operations from general headquarters, and our operations were run so that only the officer in the field knew his informant’s actual identity. So I can’t tell you a name.”
The earl clenched his teeth in frustration.
“But I can give you a few samples of the traitor’s handwriting.”
Wrexford accepted the packet of papers with a curt thanks. “Is there any chance that I could contact the field officer?”
Dalambert’s expression hardened. “As to that, sir, I feel that I’ve done enough—”
“I hadn’t mentioned every detail, monsieur,” interjected von Münch. “Lord Wrexford’s brother died in the same ambush that caused Mr. Greeley’s horrific injuries.”
The Frenchman let out a reluctant sigh. “Give me a day or two. I make no promises, but if the man is willing to reveal the information, I’ll send word to you.”
“Thank you, monsieur,” replied the earl.
Dalambert gave a stiff nod. “I have done what my conscience says is right. However, I’m not comfortable answering further questions on French military matters, so please understand that I prefer not to meet again in person.”
“I think that is for the best.” Wrexford turned abruptly to the tree just behind him and pulled a knife from his boot. “I would also suggest that you make your inquiry very discreetly.”
He cut out the misshapen bullet that was buried chest-high in the wood and held it up to his companions. “And it would be wise of you to take precautions for your own safety until I am able to have the traitor apprehended.”
“Ach du lieber Gott,” rasped von Münch. “Had you not knocked us down, milord . . .”
Yes, one of you would be dead.
The Frenchman’s eyes widened in shock, but his only acknowledgment of the earl’s warning was a curt nod.
“Lastly, I would advise you to return to the festivities by circling back around the lake,” added the earl, “rather than taking the shorter way bordering Horse Guards Road.”
Dalambert turned on his heel and hurried away.
“Should I also return to the party, milord?” asked von Münch, once the sound of the Frenchman’s steps had died away.
Dark on dark, the shadows fluttered in the breeze.
“I’d rather you stay with me. I’ll escort you to Carlton House, where you can summon a carriage to take you back to your lodgings.
” Wrexford hesitated. “I would also suggest that you don’t go out alone at night from now on.
” A pause. “In fact, it might be wise for you to return to the king’s palace in Württemberg. ”
“You think me in danger?”
“Clearly, someone is willing to commit murder to prevent an old secret from coming to light. And it stands to reason that he knows of your involvement. So it’s safer—”
“Safety be damned!”
The librarian’s reaction took the earl by surprise.
“I may not have your military experience, milord. But I am not a craven coward who would crawl away just to save his own skin. I am part of this investigation, and I mean to help you see that justice is done.” Squaring his shoulders, von Münch added, “No matter the threat.”
“Your sentiments—and your courage—do you credit, Herr von Münch. But I’m not sure you truly comprehend the danger.”
The librarian gave a pointed look at the gash in the tree. “I think I do, Lord Wrexford. Besides, you could use my help in finding the missing manuscript.”
The librarian, Wrexford conceded, had shown himself to be highly intelligent and observant....
“Very well.” He expelled a sigh. “We need to fetch Lady Wrexford from the party and head to my townhouse on Berkeley Square. If you are going to be part of this investigation, you need to become acquainted with her.”
“S-Surely a countess is too . . .” A cough. “That is, a lady’s sensibilities tend to be rather, er, delicate for such dangerous endeavors.”
A smile touched Wrexford’s lips. “I suggest you refrain from forming any notions on feminine sensibilities until you meet my wife.”