Chapter 13
“For although the act condemns the doer, the end may justify him.”
—Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses
It was a ride of some thirty minutes, and he used the time to let himself slip back into that role he kept hoping he never would have to assume again. He put aside all of his worries. Any semblance of softness. He needed to be a ruthless, Machiavellian man.
As Ravenscroft predicted, Rotten Row was filled to the brim with people from all walks of life—on foot, in open carriages, and on horseback. With the sovereigns informally parading for the gratification of the public, bodies were lined along the fence several deep.
While on horseback, he made a sweep of the occupants of the carriages parked along the drive. Ravenscroft had arrived by curricle, and Peregrine had marked his position close to a carriage of Prussian women. But when Perry went back to reconnoiter with the dandy, his carriage had been abandoned.
Ravenscroft had stepped out to stand a few lengths away. Peregrine slid down from the saddle, walking over, his horse following behind.
“Magpie,” he said, wincing at the colour of the man’s waistcoat in the sunshine. “Did you decide the sovereigns were not enough of a curiosity?”
“Did no one ever tell you that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?” Ravenscroft looked down his nose at Peregrine.
“Spoken like a man who can’t bring his wits to bear during banter.” Perry’s lazy smile took the sting out of his words. “Have you seen The Propagandist?”
What Perry and Ravenscroft had been uncertain about, during their late evening of planning, had been whether Gentz would join the procession.
Most of the military men and highest ranking visitors had.
Due to his importance, Gentz certainly merited a spot in the parade.
However, Peregrine had made a private wager with himself that Gentz would not participate so directly in social peacocking.
He won that bet.
“The Swedish bigwigs entered his carriage some few minutes ago.” Ravenscroft lifted his chin in the direction of the open conveyance, where Perry could only see the back of Gentz’s hatted head. “We can waylay him when he is finished.”
“And my mother?”
His co-conspirator scratched his nose in a nervous gesture. “I haven’t spotted her yet. But they are not our concerns. Not right now.”
Which was true. If they were to speak to Gentz at all, they would need to before the second part of their plans were underway.
A military shout and the sound of many horses had Peregrine glancing over his right shoulder.
The Household Cavalry were clearing the way for the front of the procession.
The Tsar, Prinny, and Frederick William III, the King of Prussia, rode their horses in a tight, flattened triangular formation, surrounded by their guards.
These were the three most powerful men in Europe—or at least they were now.
Prussia’s King was a shy, indecisive man, but the changes his military commanders had wrought since the Treaty of Tilsit certainly captured people’s attention.
Within the span of a few years, Prussia had risen from their humiliating vassal status to possess one of the largest and most modern armies of the allied forces.
But Austria, despite Metternich’s lack of title as sovereign, was not a country that a canny man should overlook. Armies wouldn’t be the only force to be reckoned with at the diplomatic tables; Metternich and von Gentz played a more subtle game.
Peregrine looked back at the carriage holding Gentz and the Swedish gentlemen. “Gentz has some agenda of his own. Perhaps if we are lucky, we might even be able to glean a hint of it.”
“For now, I will settle for what will help Castlereagh,” grumbled the magpie. “With our luck, your mother will not show, and all those plans will be for naught.”
“To be honest, a part of me would be relieved,” Perry admitted.
The aftermath was the most dangerous part of their plans. One of them—not Peregrine, it had been unanimously agreed—had to let Lady Fitzroy know they were responsible for Lark’s disappearance.
“It must be done. There is no reason to keep her location a secret,” Ravenscroft reminded him. “Telling your mother where Lark is will keep her from asking guards to do a search. She might rage, but you are Lark’s guardian.”
“That is not the part that concerns me; the part I don’t like is having you deliver the letter.”
“Ah, well. If you did it yourself, she’s apt to gut you a second time—and this time she might well succeed.” Ravenscroft looked disgruntled.
“Any child here would be willing to deliver the message for a shilling. And then you would not be standing there like an archery target, especially with that waistcoat of yours.”
“Someone with fewer secrets?” Ravenscroft said, striking at the centre of the matter.
He met Perry’s gaze and did not let it drop.
“It should be me. She needs the reminder that the Crown will not let her actions go unmarked, and Marian knows whom I represent unofficially. Now, put your mind to better use.”
Peregrine nodded absently, shifting his attention as the parade continued. The milling crowd parted just enough that he noticed Charity in the back of it, waiting to catch his attention. When their eyes met, she smiled, and he could feel his spirits lift.
She didn’t wait for a response, turning her head instead to look in another direction, and he followed the angle of her gaze, blessing that he had the height for a relatively clear view. He saw Thorne, who also stood inches above most.
Thorne had agreed to lead the kidnapping, ensuring Lark left the park in their company. He would also safeguard both Selina and Charity. Peregrine and Ravenscroft’s role in that part would be to serve as a distraction and ensure that Lady Fitzroy did not look their way.
Thorne’s gaze was fixed on a closed carriage ahead of them in the line, his focus complete. That could only mean one thing.
“My mother and Lark are here,” Perry murmured.
Ravenscroft huffed an acknowledgement. “Thank God. Let us see if we can hasten things and attract the attention of von Gentz. Mount up again.”
Slowly manoeuvring around people, they walked down the line of carriages. When Peregrine passed near Gentz’s conveyance, sitting slightly higher than the men inside, he tipped his hat in greeting.
“Lord Fitzroy!” Gentz hailed him, leaning on the side of the landau. “A pleasant day for a parade of kings, is it not?”
Perry gave a faint smile. “I would agree. Herr von Gentz, have you had an opportunity to meet my acquaintance, Lord Ravenscroft?”
The Swedes glanced at Perry and Ravenscroft, murmured polite excuses, and slid out of the far side of the carriage.
Gentz ignored them, instead turning his keen eye on the magpie, his face amused.
“I have not—although I know who you are, Lord Ravenscroft. Do you answer to ‘Magpie’ the way I do to my own nickname?”
“Only my dearest enemies are so bold, Herr von Gentz,” Ravenscroft replied sardonically in Peregrine’s direction. “I hope you are having an excellent visit to London.”
“Sit with me. Else one of us will get a crick in our necks.” Gentz opened the carriage door near him, inviting Ravenscroft to climb inside. Astride, with the horse standing next to The Propagandist, Peregrine stayed in the saddle.
“I have been thinking of our meeting at Ascot, Lord Fitzroy. You seem very devoted to your country,” the Austrian said idly, fingering the ornate grip of the walking cane leaning against his leg. “It has been a shame to hear how your loyalty was repaid.”
Peregrine could see from the corner of his eye that Gentz’s attention was trained on Ravenscroft as he spoke.
“Yes, yes, we are all acquainted with his illustrious mama,” Ravenscroft drawled. “And you, of all men, you wretched scribe, know the business of nations—how often it is wiser to strike first, and save the philosophy for after the dust settles.”
Gentz laughed, his bright eyes glimmering. “So rare, a voice unadorned. It is rather refreshing. What do the two of you hope to draw from me, that you have so clearly sought me out?”
The Propagandist was baiting them to see who would negotiate first. Peregrine and Ravenscroft had agreed it was important for Ravenscroft to assert command, especially if he wished to keep communication going on with Austria.
“There are occasions it is worthwhile to spend one’s time in a dance, and others it is better to cut to the chase.
Half the diplomats in Europe are already here fluttering about like exotic birds, posturing and preening while they court alliances and deals.
Not that I deny that there is a certain pleasure in the game, but sometimes the rest of us would rather get on with it.
If we put our cards on the table, everyone may go home happy that much sooner.
” Ravenscroft waved his hand. “The Russians seem to have discovered the virtue of such brevity.”
“I believe I see.” Gentz wore an expression of enigmatic benevolence.
“Strange that you harbour fears that your kinsman in Castlereagh stands at such a disadvantage in his own homeland. But I do understand there have been many… distractions lately. And Lady Normanby’s disgrace has no doubt caused Viscount Sidmouth some trouble. ”
The man paused, glancing up at Peregrine. “Are you doing a favour for the magpie and the Regent, Fitzroy? Or is it somewhat the other way around? The whispers I’ve heard have been a muddle, but it is interesting that certain names come up time and time again.”
“Do people have the luxury of such simple options?” Peregrine asked dryly.
Gentz’s mouth cocked up on one side. “Unimportant people do.”
“Come to whatever conclusion that you like. But I do not have the power to speak for the Regent,” Perry told him, pointing at Ravenscroft with his chin. “He does.”