Chapter 5 #2
Alexander eyed the Scottish American without disclosing his inner suspicion that MacKinnon was more of an American than a Scot, and certainly more than being British.
‘I fully intend to. In the meantime, I need inside information, MacKinnon. Are you willing? In the name of peace?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘We both know what outcome we wish for, but I cannot promise to pass anything except messages from your agent. Gathering and passing on information is something I could not do lightly. I would feel like a traitor even if the outcome was for the common good.’
‘The eagles are gathering – or should I say vultures,’ said Lord Kildare. ‘This war between the colony and England has to end soon. It’s been going on since 1812. Nearly two years now. Enough is enough. Will you not reconsider?’
It was rare not to be able to rightly read a man.
Ethan MacKinnon was the exception. He was wealthy, clever but also something of a wild card.
An adventurer some said, an opportunist said others; a man who took great delight in doing the unexpected.
Alexander knew him to be all of those things – and more.
People were bound to speculate about a man who owned more land in Virginia than he did in England or, indeed, in Scotland.
As a man with Britain’s best interests at heart, there were times when Alexander was obliged to question placing his trust in such a man.
So far, his nose for a loyal subject of the Crown had proved well founded.
Yes, Ethan did own a large part of Virginia, hewn out of the wilderness by his forebears in the early years of North American colonisation.
But he also had lands in England and quite a portion in Scotland, because that was what he was, a Scottish laird, a descendant of a powerful clan rumoured to have been close to royalty from the time of Robert the Bruce.
After that, it seemed they had turned to Puritanism of the type preached by John Knox.
Persecuted for their faith, many had set sail for the New World.
It just happened that a number of people of substance had kept a foot in both camps!
‘I don’t think it will happen. Noises are being made in Washington, accusations of favouring the French. Both nations may have had a revolution throwing off the reins of monarchy, but there the similarity ends. Napoleon has declared himself an emperor, for God’s sake, not a republican!’
A knowing smile spread across the face of the older man.
‘The Americans know that. But your instincts are correct. There are certain parties who would prefer this present war to continue for some time. We would not. Napoleon is at liberty to continue being a threat to weaker nations and anyone else who gets in his way. In time, if Wellesley has anything to do with it, he will be destroyed.’
‘The French will never forgive you.’
‘And don’t I know it!’
Lord Kildare’s expression was grim.
Ethan MacKinnon had known Alexander long enough to read his looks. He was an observant man. He missed very little. His ears also were attuned to changes in tone or variation of vocabulary. He knew that books were one of his lordship’s favourite tools in which to hide secret messages.
‘You have heard from your man in Martinque?’
Of course he had. Ethan had noticed the piece of paper and the large book, the latest addition to Lord Kildare’s collection.
Silently, the letter was handed over from one man to the other.
Ethan’s frown deepened as he read it.
‘Our spy reports that there may be more going on, though he is not sure, but it seems allied to the pirate problem.’
Lord Kildare nodded. ‘Quite. It started with Lafitte, but there are many more. One of the worst is Reynard. Both our ships and those of the Americans have suffered at his hands. He’s lethal. Some say he is in league with the French. Others that he is a free agent and answers to no one.’
‘Our informant hints that he may be more than a pirate.’
Ethan frowned. ‘Seeing as he’s attacked both British and American shipping, my instinct tells me he is an out-and-out pirate with loyalty to no one except himself. Perhaps I need to pay a visit to New Orleans. French and Americans. The place is a hotbed of every intrigue under the sun.’
‘Yes. You need to get back out there,’ his lordship stated grimly. ‘I take it you have put in an appearance at my gathering?’
‘I have indeed.’
‘Lucky for you having a foot in both camps – this country and America.’
‘I’m surprised these people so easily ignore my American origins.’
Smiling, the duke got to his feet, playfully slapping the Virginian’s arm. ‘I’m not! Be on your guard, my good fellow. The French are dangerous enough but beware of a young lady in need of a fiancé and a mother determined her daughter should marry well!’
Ethan threw back his head when he laughed. ‘I will be on my guard.’
‘But only when you wish to be,’ said Lord Kildare, a twinkle lighting his eyes at the same time as a warning finger wagged home his wisdom just in front of Ethan MacKinnon’s face. ‘Take my advice. Remain a bachelor. And bring your children up the same way!’
Ethan joined with his host in laughing at the joke, following it with a subdued shake of his head.
Kildare stopped just before opening the door. The library was his sanctuary of sanctuaries. At his approach throughout other rooms in the house, footmen opened the doors he wished to go through, standing ready for such action on the other side. But not the library door.
‘In the meantime, I am neglecting my guests. No doubt Arthur Wellesley is surrounded by the adoring female populace and is in need of urgent rescue.’
It was well known that women were drawn to him like moths to a flame – except for his wife, that is. Indeed, Arthur Wellesley endeavoured to keep the detestable woman at a great distance! Other women he welcomed with open arms!