“You’re helpful as always,” Grey said, irritated his time alone to study her was being interrupted. “Why are you here anyway? Bored?”
“I came to find you.”
“And you have. Spit it out and be gone.”
“I’m under the king’s orders.” Gravenhurst swatted at a bee buzzing around his face. The sun glinted off his ring. Grey frowned, followed the path of his friend’s hand and hissed low as he counted the six stones he’d never paid heed to before. He stared at the man he’d considered like another brother for as long as he could remember. He thought he knew Gravenhurst as well as he knew himself, but doubt now bombarded him. What did he really know of anyone?
What was certain and what was fabrication? Gravenhurst’s parents had died when he was very young, and he’d been raised by an uncaring, distant relative who’d let Gravenhurst come and go as he pleased. His friend had spent more time at Grey’s house than his own, and Grey had not even minded when Gravenhurst and Edward had become good friends as well. Grey had been glad that Gravenhurst had someone else who cared about his welfare. These were facts.
Gravenhurst was gone a good many months out of the year. Another fact. He claimed he loved to travel and he would rather do it when he was young, in good health, and unencumbered by a wife who wouldn’t be able to endure the adventures he went on. This was likely fabrication. Gravenhurst had never once asked Grey to go on one of his trips with him, and now that Grey cast his mind back, he was certain his friend had been gone many of the same times Edward or Father were gone. He swallowed a knot of astonishment. “You work for the king.”
Gravenhurst slapped Grey on the shoulder. “That I do, my friend. And not, mind you, as an equerry.”
“You bloody bastard. Why didn’t you tell me?” His words came out on an exhalation.
“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t able to. Just as you will never be able to talk of what you do with anyone but the king or one of the other five spies who are part of our circle. I took a vow to keep the secret, just as you have. You cannot be angry with me for that.”
“I’m not angry, just shocked at the discovery. How long have you worked for the king?”
“Since I was twenty-one.”
Grey whistled. “Eleven years. They recruited you young.”
“Come on. We’ll talk as we walk.”
“Walk?”
Gravenhurst nodded toward Lady Madelaine. “Either we move or the lady catches us here.”
Grey scrambled to his feet and followed Gravenhurst back toward the castle. “There’s much to accomplish in the next couple of weeks,” Gravenhurst said. “The king wants me to prepare you to track down Sutton’s killer with me.”
“Sutton was a spy, and he was killed?”
“Yes. He was captured while on a mission in France with Stratmore several months ago. And our contact in France confirms Sutton was killed by De La Touche.”
“Stratmore is a spy? Lady Madelaine’s father?”
“Try to keep up, Grey.”
“I’m keeping up, damn it. That doesn’t mean I’m not surprised. Who is De La Touche?”
“Napoleon’s most favored spy. And his deadliest one. Mostly we spies have a code. We lie, we cheat, we steal, but normally we don’t kill, unless absolutely necessary.”
Grey nodded, but his mind reeled. Stratmore a spy. Pearson a spy. And Grey’s father had killed men. His brother? How little he really knew about his own family. The shame of all the jealousy he had felt swept through him again. He’d assumed so much about his father, and it was all wrong. “I take it this man De La Touche does not abide by the spy code of conduct.”
“No. He doesn’t. In the last five years, he’s killed two of our spies. Sutton makes number three.”
Grey walked into the courtyard of the castle and stopped. He glanced back and waited until Lady Madelaine came into view. All this talk of killing made him want to ensure she got into the castle safely, though he knew she was safe here. She trudged toward the castle, her sluggish steps making it obvious she didn’t want to return to her mundane duties as a lady-in-waiting. A smile tugged at his lips. Poor dove. He understood her reluctance. He watched her for a moment, before refocusing on Gravenhurst. “How can you be certain Sutton is dead?”
“Our contact has never been wrong. Besides that, he identified Sutton’s body and retrieved his ring, which you are now wearing.”
Revulsion swept through Grey. He had to force himself not to yank off the dead man’s ring. It was only a ring. It wasn’t as if he’d killed the man for it. But damnation, he was bothered knowing his chance to be a spy had come from a man’s death.
Gravenhurst clasped Grey’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it. I don’t dwell on the man I replaced. Sorry I had to lie. But I couldn’t very well tell you one of the king’s personal spies was killed and you had been tapped to replace the fallen man.”
“No, I don’t suppose you could. Why did my father recommend me now? After all these years? I had thought, when the king told me the news yesterday, that Father might have been waiting for me to mature, but if you were chosen so young, why me now?”
“You’ll have to ask your father to be certain. I was a perfect candidate though. Orphaned young. No living close relatives. No wish to ever marry or have children. And you? I can only speculate, but I imagine your father wanted to keep at least one son out of harm’s way. But bloody fool that you are, you thrust yourself into danger daily. Might as well be doing it for a noble cause.”
