“No.” He hated that term. “But the world is changing, and in the wake of Napoleon, Europe is being remade; countries and principalities are merging, being annexed or absorbed, new alliances are being made, and it is in our government’s interest to make sure that we are not—shall we say, disadvantaged in the balance of power.”
She nodded. “It’s made the teaching of the globes very difficult too—the changing borders and disappearing countries. I could hardly keep up.”
Cal opened his mouth to point out it was not quite the same thing but decided discretion was the better part of husbandly valor.
He told her about the Scorpion then, and how the pursuit had become personal when his friend Bentley had been shot. “I wish you could have known him. He was a scraggly, awkward, odd-looking boy, all ears and elbows and Adam’s apple, but he had an unquenchable spirit—nothing defeated him, even though he was a walking target to the bullies of the school, such an odd-bod he was.” He gave a rueful half laugh. “He never did learn to box worth sixpence, though he tried, Lord how he tried.”
He was silent a moment. “But a fine, fine brain—I’ve seen men twice his age stunned at his clever reasoning and brilliant ideas. And then...” His voice broke and for a moment he had to fight for control.
She slipped her hand into his and squeezed, and the calmness with which she waited and the warmth of her quietpresence steadied him until he could go on without disgracing himself.
He explained how he’d half-recognized the assassin and come back to England on nothing more solid than conjecture, and how he and a couple of others had been working though the list of men who’d been dismissed from the Rifle Brigade. “We’re lucky it’s a relatively short list—the Rifle Brigade is one of the few regiments that has remained at almost full strength—those sharpshooters are too valuable to lose.”
“So you’re what—looking for someone who left the regiment but who has been absent from their home at odd periods?”
He nodded, pleased with her quick understanding. “Exactly. And today I’m going to check on the last two in my area—Bert and Joe Gimble—two brothers. So I can’t take the girls with me. Besides, it’s a long ride, and I won’t be returning until well after dark.”
“I see.” She was silent a moment, resting her chin on her knees. “I don’t suppose I can argue that the girls’ needs are greater than the capture of a notorious assassin,” she said eventually. “Go on, then. I’ll do my best to make them feel welcome and wanted.”
Cal rose from the bed. “I appreciate it.” He headed toward the connecting door, when she called after him, “Lord—um—Ashendon.”
He turned. “We are not in public, madam. You may use my Christian name.”
She raised her brows humorously. “And yet I am ‘madam’?”
He inclined his head in rueful acknowledgment. “What should I call you, then? Emmaline?”
“Yes, or Emm. And what do I call you?”
“Cal or Calbourne, suit yourself. The girls call me Cal. Ashendon if you prefer—it’s what Aunt Agatha calls me now.” He turned to leave again.
“Cal,” she called.
“What is it now?”
“If it’s dangerous for the girls, it must be even more dangerous for you. You’re not going alone, are you?”
He shrugged. “I work best alone.”
“Then I hope you’re well armed.”
“I am.” Cal closed the door behind him and rang for hot water. Somehow, telling his wife about Bentley had lifted a weight off his chest. She was very easy to talk to, a good and sympathetic listener.
When she wasn’t arguing with him.
As he shaved and dressed, he considered what she’d said about the girls. Did they really think he didn’t care about them? He’d damned well turned his life upside down for their sake.
He supposed they didn’t realize that.
***
Emm rose and rang for hot water. “I’ll wear my riding habit, Milly,” she told her maid when she arrived. “And wake the girls up, will you? We’re going riding this morning.”
Her old habit was faded and a bit shabby—she hadn’t worn it for seven years—and she’d had Milly move the buttons, as she’d filled out in the bosom and hips since then, but Emm was looking forward to riding again. She would get Rose and Lily to show her and George the estate. With any luck they would not even notice their brother’s absence.
She’d given some thought to keeping the girls occupied and happy while they were here. As she’d told their brother some weeks ago, Lily and Rose were bright but bored, and when young women were bored, they got up to mischief.
Vigorous exercise was one way of keeping them out of trouble.
