Chapter 26 #2
Pain, raw and deep, passed over James’s features as he watched the river gently lap against the stones below. Kate remained close, grateful he did not have to stand in this place alone.
“How did he do it?” she asked.
Thomas let out a sigh. “I am not certain. But Henry laid out the scene well enough to fool us all.”
James gripped the iron railing with his free hand until his knuckles paled.
“At first, it seemed as though he had been investigating The Sentinel. Then I remembered what he had become before he vanished, the rising bitterness and contempt, all his talk about how things needed to change, and I grew to fear the list meant something worse.”
“You are the one who marked it,” Kate said.
Thomas nodded once. “I did.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I blamed much of what I had seen on grief. On wanting him alive badly enough to find proof where there was none. Then, a few weeks after the river, a lad approached me while I was in the West End on a job. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he handed me a sealed letter and called me Sentinel. I took the note, but before I could correct or question him, the lad had bolted.”
“What did the note say?” James asked.
“There were only three lines: The warning has been delivered. The Warden expects no further disobedience. No action required.”
A chill ran through Kate.
“It was not enough to know what had happened,” Thomas continued. “But it was enough to know the list was dangerous. When I realized the boy had mistaken me for Henry, I marked The Sentinel because I feared it was not the man Henry had been hunting, but the man he had become.”
The answer settled between them in the cold mist.
“You should have come to me,” James said.
“With what? A hidden list, a cryptic note, and a fear that my brother might have become a traitor? If I was wrong, I would have tarnished his name on nothing but suspicion. And if I was right and your loyalties were not what I hoped—if you were another name on that list—I would have made myself a target.”
James lifted a brow. “And Westmarch? Why not just send it to him?”
“Westmarch brought Henry into that world. I didn’t know if he was being watched, or worse, part of it. I had no idea who to trust.”
“So you sent it to Brenton Hall.”
“Your London house was too visible,” Thomas said. “A letter sent to Brenton Hall had a better chance of reaching you without passing through the wrong hands. So I sent it and waited to see what you would do.”
“And if I ignored it?”
“Then I would know you were not the man I hoped you were.”
James’s jaw tightened. “You used me.”
“Yes. I regret the necessity, but not the result.”
James turned on him. “You sound like your brother when you speak of necessity.”
Thomas flinched, the first crack Kate had seen in his composure. “Do not mistake me for Henry.”
James stiffened beside her but said nothing.
“Henry used men for power,” Thomas said. “I sent a warning because I had no other way to stop him.”
For several seconds, no one spoke.
“What do you want from us?” James asked.
Thomas was silent long enough for the morning to brighten around them. “To help stop the treachery my brother served.”
“For the Crown?”
“For the law,” Thomas said. “And for the family name he blackened.”
Kate studied him. She did not know Thomas well enough to trust him fully, but he already knew their secrets. For now, the truth he had shared would have to be enough.
“Westmarch will want to hear this,” James said.
Thomas nodded. “I have already sent word asking for a meeting.”
James held his gaze. “And if you learn anything that concerns my wife, you come to us. Not only Westmarch.”
“Understood.” Thomas inclined his head in farewell and retraced his steps, disappearing down the deserted street.
James offered Kate his arm, and they turned from the bridge toward home. Behind them, the Thames flowed steadily beneath the brightening sky.
By late afternoon, Kate stood at the threshold of James’s study, staring at what now resembled a war room.
The servants had been dismissed from this floor and James’s mother and Alice had been persuaded to spend the afternoon elsewhere.
The long table near the bookshelves was covered with copied ledger pages, the list of twelve titles, and every scrap of intelligence they dared place in one room.
James joined her at the doorway.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Kate met his gaze squarely. “With you? Always.”
They walked in together, joining Westmarch and their friends.
Alex stood at the mantel, arms crossed. William had already claimed the chair nearest the ledger pages.
Hugh’s usual brightness had dimmed, and Nicholas, for once, was not smiling.
Kate rubbed her wrists as she sat beside James, haunted by the ghost of the ropes and the terror of watching him fight Henry before she could free herself.
Westmarch stood by the desk and addressed William and Alex.
“Before we go further, the two of you should understand what you are agreeing to. James, Hugh, Kate, and Nicholas already know the nature of this work. You do not. This is not drawing room gossip. If you remain, you keep what you hear in confidence and accept the risk that comes with knowing it.”
Alex remained unmoved. “I saw enough last night. Ignorance will not make any of us safer.”
William tapped a finger on the ledger pages. “If these men are hiding behind contracts, property leases, and false accounts, I may be of some use. I would like to help.”
“And if someone needs to be taught a lesson in the ring,” Nicholas said, “I presume you are available to help with that too?”
William smiled. “I promise to look into the matter personally.”
James waited until Nicholas’s grin faded, then relayed everything he and Kate had learned from the previous night and from Thomas. Kate watched the knowledge settle over them as James spoke. Henry had chosen treachery, and none of them yet knew what that would cost.
When James finished, Westmarch said, “Thomas Whitlock is indeed an ally. I have trusted him for years, and his connections as a Runner may prove useful. I recruited Henry on Thomas’s recommendation.
Neither of us could have imagined what Henry would become, but I bear the responsibility for bringing him into this work. ”
“Where is Henry now?” Hugh asked.
“Alive,” Westmarch said. “For now, that fact is known only to those present, Thomas, and the men guarding Henry.”
James leaned forward. “Does the Circle know where he is?”
“They know last night’s attempt failed,” Westmarch said. “Whether they know Henry is in custody, I am not certain.”
Alex’s arms crossed more tightly. “How long before they discover it?”
“Not long,” Westmarch said. “Which is why we must use the uncertainty while we have it.”
Kate could wait no longer. She had to know. “And Mr. Ashcombe?”
Westmarch’s mouth hardened into a grim line. “Henry admitted to precious little when questioned, but he did confess to killing Ashcombe. He had followed you to the inn and overheard enough of Ashcombe’s conversation with you to recognize him as a risk.”
“So Henry silenced him,” Kate said.
James’s hand found hers beneath the table.
“Kate,” said Westmarch, “his death is not yours to carry. That belongs to Henry alone.”
“And the other two men apprehended last night?” Alex asked.
“More afraid of the Circle than of any jail cell or hangman’s noose,” Westmarch said. “I suspect their families were threatened, though neither man will say as much.”
James studied Westmarch. “But they gave you something.”
Westmarch nodded. “A target. Sir Geoffrey Cavendish, Second Lord of the Treasury.”
William sat forward. “Cavendish has been reviewing government contracts.”
“Yes,” Westmarch said. “Had Cavendish died, so would his inquiries. The Circle would have removed one danger to their plans and sown panic through the circles preparing for the Privy Council.”
“Then Kate’s abduction wasn’t part of their plans?” James asked.
“No,” Westmarch replied. “Henry used the ball as cover for his own purposes.”
“To reach James,” Kate said quietly.
“To reach both of you.”
“What about Alverton?” James asked.
Nicholas spoke up. “Guilty of arrogance, poor manners, and a shockingly ugly waistcoat, but not treason. Half the ballroom saw him after Kate vanished. He was too busy nursing his wounded pride to be useful to anyone.”
“And the man who drew me away?” Alex asked.
“Gone,” Westmarch said. “Likely paid for only the one task and nothing else. We are looking.”
“The Privy Council is still secure?” James asked.
“For now,” Westmarch said. “That is the good news.”
James rested his forearms on the table. “And the bad?”
“We do not know where the Circle will strike next.”
William tapped the ledger pages. “We need to know how they move. Money, property, shipments, messages, there must be something that points to their next move.”
“Then we work backward,” Kate said. “I will continue searching those pages for patterns.”
William studied the stack of intelligence. “And the lost ship?”
“Still lost, for now,” Westmarch said. “But the false entries suggest it may not have vanished in the way we were meant to believe.”
William shook his head slowly. “Ships do not disappear without leaving a trail.”
“Then perhaps you should be the one to follow it,” Westmarch said.
“And the Great Dover Shipping Company?” Kate asked.
“Being watched by an agent,” Westmarch said. “Discreetly. The company appears legitimate, which makes it more useful as cover. The clerks know little, the men who matter seem to have disappeared, and someone has been using ordinary shipments to hide unusual cargo.”
“I will reach out to some of my connections that I trust,” James said. “I’ll ask them to listen for any whispers. Someone in this town has to be willing to talk.”
Kate drew the copied list closer as pieces of their conversation with Thomas locked into place. “These are not only names,” she murmured. “They are functions.”