Chapter 3 #2
By this time several of the other ladies present had gathered around them and Anthony spoke to the group at large.
“Lady Pilkington will be thrilled to know you’ve all arrived.
We have a veritable house party in full swing at the moment.
Several of Lord and Lady Pilkington’s friends from England are guests here at the mansion for a time, and we daily enjoy the company of soldiers from the First Cavalry Light Brigade.
I trust you won’t miss Society in the least.”
A general exclamation of glee went up from the crowd.
“You truly are just in time,” Dylan added. “Lady Pilkington’s biannual costume ball is to be held tonight.”
Additional squeals of delight filled the air, and the group began moving en masse toward the wide front steps of the Residency.
Two additional carriages approached via the tree-lined drive and drew to a stop near the crowd.
A number of ladies’ maids disembarked, and Sophia and Rachael moved to speak with them.
Anthony watched as Sophia spoke easily with a young woman and elicited a smile from her.
Of course Sophia would be kind to a maid—she’d been one herself.
She had balked at having one when Jack had first come into the title, but she’d finally acquiesced when Ivy convinced her she would be doing any young woman a favor by offering her generous employment and a kind mistress.
Good work was not always easy to come by, and to be treated well by the family was a blessing.
Sophia knew the truth of that altogether too well.
She and Rachael returned to Anthony and Dylan and climbed the front steps to the main house.
Anthony was curious about Jack’s willingness to allow Sophia to travel with the Fishing Fleet, but he didn’t feel he had the right to ask her about it.
The Fleet had become notorious for carrying women far below Sophia’s station who had been unable to secure a good match at home.
There were also rumors of shipboard dalliances with other single gentlemen during the voyage that scandalized proper society.
He was saved from giving voice to the awkward question when Dylan asked it instead.
“A little surprised my aunt approved of your travel with the Fleet, my dear cousin.” He grinned. “How did you manage it without me there to charm her?”
Miss Scarsdale rolled her eyes. “It took some doing, I must admit.” She sighed.
“And Mrs. Stilton, my hired companion for the voyage, was most reluctant to allow me association with any of the other ladies, but when she realized Miss Elliot also traveled with a respectable companion and was the sister of an earl, besides, she finally relented.”
“Traveling with a respectable companion is a wise course of action,” Anthony said.
“I would recommend it if any female relation of my own were traveling with the Fleet.” He managed a smile for Sophia, but then braced himself at the quick glint in her eye he knew was but the briefest of warnings before her veiled sarcasm struck.
“And how apropos! I am, after all, your surrogate sister, yes?” She dimpled at him, her lovely face the very image of a charming debutante well versed in the art of harmless flirtation.
She would set the wife-hunting populace of British men on their collective ear.
“And I am the most fortunate of women to have two such strapping men to look after my well-being. I simply cannot imagine making my way through life without the guiding hand of elder brothers. Or dear friends.”
Anthony searched for something to say from a well of charming platitudes that had suddenly run dry.
Sophia linked arms with Rachael, asked her something he couldn’t hear, and they entered the mansion, laughing.
Lady Pilkington, a trim woman approaching middle age, and striking in both dress and ornamentation, received the group in the front hall.
She clapped her hands with a wide smile when she singled out Sophia.
“My darling Miss Elliot, what a pleasure to meet you in person! The likeness your brother sent with his last letter hardly does you justice. What a beauty you are, and what fun we shall have! I’ve never been a sponsor—it shall be grand! ”
Sophia smiled and accepted the woman’s quick embrace, and then introduced Rachael Scarsdale and several of the other women in the group.
Lady Pilkington clucked after the bunch, showing Sophia, Rachael, and a handful of other ladies to the guest rooms. The remainder of the young women were to lodge either with other British families and dignitaries near the Residency or in one of the larger nearby British compounds.
The butler, Himmat, directed those not with Lady Pilkington to the drawing room for tea before they were to leave for their own quarters.
Anthony took the opportunity to ask Dylan to join him in the library. Dylan had been in India for some time, though he had arrived at the Residency only a short time before the ladies, and Anthony was eager for a more in-depth conversation with him.
Dylan was one of very few people who had been aware of Anthony’s actual duties during the war. Dylan had even saved his life more than once. It would be a relief to finally confide in someone, to share the burden of the true reason Anthony was in India.
The library was an airy room with whitewashed walls and ceilings and plantation shutters on the windows.
Shelves along the walls held a variety of leather-bound volumes on subjects ranging from history to horticulture to politics.
A thick, red Turkish rug anchored a seating arrangement in the center of the room where he and Dylan sat.
Dylan leaned back in his chair. “Why are you here, then? I hear the rumors, of course, that you’re back to your carefree days, but I’m inclined to believe those rumors are more of a screen than the truth. You and I both know they weren’t true the first time, either.”
Anthony sighed. “Braxton sent me.”
Dylan nodded. “And what is it that endangers the Realm this time?”
“The War Department has lost a confidential document that contains information about His Majesty’s servants—detailed information, I am afraid.”
Dylan’s brow raised. “And Braxton has sent you to recover it.”
“Yes. He believes the document was stolen by a young man named Harold Miller. I tracked his movements from England to France, where he secured passage on his uncle’s merchant vessel.
However, by the time Captain Miller put ashore at the Cape, he’d lost several of his crew—including his nephew, Harold—to illness.
” Anthony lowered his voice. “The captain is here as a guest of the Residency. I assume he is in possession of the document, though I do not know where he might be keeping it.”
“One hopes the document is in code?”
Anthony nodded. “It is, although the code is not exclusive to Braxton. We can assume the information is secure, for now, at least. Our operatives in France have remained safe, though depending on what the captain does with the document, that could change in an instant.”
“Do you believe the captain could break the code?”
“Doubtful, but he could find someone with the necessary skills. Or, he could sell it to an individual or a government who might have an interest in holding the document ransom. Either way, I have tracked the thing for two years now and am quite at the end of my rope.” It was an understatement, truly.
He went to bed at night cursing the document, and he awoke in the morning cursing the document.
He had begun to wonder if he would spend the rest of his life chasing the thing.
“When did the captain arrive at the Residency?”
Anthony sat back in his chair and lifted a shoulder.
When he spoke, he kept his voice down. “He arrived several days ago, just before I did. I’ve tried to pin the man down, but have not been able to find the right approach.
And my hands are somewhat tied by the very reputation designed to keep me safe.
I am not here in an openly investigative capacity; I am here to fritter away my time and attention on inconsequential matters and to flirt with pretty girls.
I cannot abandon my cover now—the world is very small where it concerns the British Empire.
I’ve already encountered several people I know from home and military service. ”
Dylan nodded. “Happens here more often than not.” He paused. “And now you find yourself in the company of a woman for whom you have obvious affection. What does she think of your ne’er-do-well reputation?”
Anthony leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees.
“She is hurt.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“I had intended to formally court her, but then Braxton arrived at my door. I was instead obliged to downplay my devotion to her, not only to complete the task at hand, but to keep her safe.” He looked at Dylan.
“The document contains privileged information not only on our operatives, but on their friends and family—anyone who could be used as leverage against us.”
Dylan whistled low.
A headache settled behind Anthony’s eyes. The woman who haunted his dreams was now under the same roof as he. Being able to court her openly was motivation enough to put the Janus Document business to rest. Perhaps if he could find the thing she might find a way to forgive him for deceiving her.