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  “Marie—” He sprang to his feet. “Damn it, Riki, what the devil are you talking about?”

  “You heard me. I believe Mrs. Marley is taking any information about the war you accidentally let slip and reporting it to the French.” She stood as he flung away from her, catching his hand to draw him back. “Listen, David. I told you about the battle scene that changed. If you weren’t betraying the British, then someone else was, and someone before whom you spoke freely.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never really talked about the war with Marie.” A slow smile lit his eyes, momentarily shoving aside his anger. “We’ve had other things to discuss.”

  “You’ve talked about France, haven’t you?” she pursued, determined to make him believe—to break his faith in the only girl she had ever known him to love. That hurt. She would give anything not to have to do this.

  David shook his head. “We haven’t talked about the war.” He met Riki’s worried gaze with a steady regard. “For the first time in my life I’ve found something of more interest than gaming.”

  Riki felt physically ill, as if she were betraying him. “David, you’ve got to—”

  He placed both hands on her shoulders and shook his head. “No, Riki. We’ve never discussed the war. Period. Now tell me why you’re so convinced. Jealous someone’s finally replaced you as first in my heart?”

  His tone sounded teasing but she knew he was serious. She sank back down on the sofa. “I deliberately made something up last night and pretended to let it slip in front of her. Remember that bit about the British attack plan?”

  “That nonsense?”

  She nodded, hating this. “Soon afterwards she claimed she had a headache and you took her home. I left the ball early too, and went to her house and waited. At about three o’clock this morning, a carriage dropped her off halfway up the street and she walked back to her house.” She raised her bleak gaze to his face. “Tell me she was with you all that time and you’ll have no idea how glad I’ll be.”

  David’s jaw tightened. “She wasn’t. But that’s not an outrageously late time if she happened to go to another party. She might have felt better and been unable to sleep.” But for the first time his voice lacked conviction.

  She laid an impulsive hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, David.”

  He shook her loose. “You haven’t proved anything. Lord, Riki, I only met her just over a month ago. That isn’t time for her to have sent any messages to the French troops in the Peninsula! She can’t be responsible for anything.” Without another word he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Riki sagged against the pillowed back, her eyes dosed. It was true, then, he’d only known her for just over a month? He was right. That wouldn’t give the French enough time to alter their defense strategy—or would it? Could they change plans as late as a few days before the battle?

  Suddenly she no longer felt as sure of anything. Spying was a dirty, hateful job, especially when one spied on people one knew and liked. She gazed unhappily out the window, saw that the snow had begun falling and returned to her chamber to try to rid herself of the headache that now throbbed against the back of her eyes.

  She must have dozed off, for a light tapping on the door brought her awake. Her headache, she noted with relief, had all but vanished. She sat up gingerly and suffered only the slightest twinge.

  Her abigail entered on her call and bobbed a quick curtsy. “His lordship’s compliments, miss, and will you drive with him?”

  She started guiltily. He couldn’t have learned about her nocturnal expedition—could he? She wouldn’t put anything past Belmont. David might very well have confronted him by now. Wearily she allowed her maid to help her into a fresh gown and tidy her hair, then made her way down to where Belmont awaited her in the hall.

  His expression, far from being angry, showed concern. “My mother said you weren’t well.”

  “Only a headache. What I wouldn’t give for an aspirin!” She descended the last steps and took the hand he held out to her. She looked down, wishing it weren’t so difficult to breathe just because he touched her. Does David feel this way with Marie? If so, she could understand his refusal to believe anything terrible of her.

  “I thought a drive in the fresh air might make you feel better.” He led her outside to where his groom walked his curricle.

  “Do we go to the park?” She shouldn’t feel such pleasure in his company, not when it would be taken from her in so short a time.

  “No. We are going to pay a visit to my brother-in-law.” He handed her up to the seat, then went around and took the reins from the groom. The man waited until Belmont put his horses forward, then swung easily up behind.

  “I shall be delighted to see Lady Linton again.” Riki regarded her hands demurely while she wondered what this might be about.

  “Will you?” Belmont raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Actually we are going in response to a summons from my brother-in-law.”

  “A summons?” Her eyes flew to his face.

  Belmont nodded. “It seems he has heard a rumor in the War Office and he is quite anxious to have it either confirmed or denied.”

  “It seems odd of him to send for us to come to his house,” she said. “Why not his office?”

  Belmont shook his head. “He’s laid up with his rheumatism. He came in this morning but left after only an hour. He has had clerks running back and forth between Whitehall and his home ever since.”

  A slight smile touched Riki’s lips. “And now he has summoned you. Why me, though?” She kept her voice low out of deference to the groom, who could overhear almost every word they said.

  Belmont slowed his pair as they neared the corner. “He didn’t, actually. That was my idea. You will know better than I if he has heard any rumors he shouldn’t. The faster we can track it to its source, the better.”

  Riki nodded but remained silent. It was David he really needed, not her. She only had the vaguest idea about the Peninsular Campaign. All she could state for certain was that Wellington won. But David, at this moment, was not likely to help her out with anything. She’d gone a long way toward alienating him this morning—and that was going to make it that much harder to get him to agree to go back to their own time.

  They drew up before an elegant townhouse on Curzon Street and Belmont helped Riki down. The butler opened the door before they even reached the porch, bowed them inside and took them directly to the library.

  Lord Linton, appearing even more frail than Riki remembered, lay on a sofa before the blazing hearth, his slender figure covered with a shawl. He looked up at their entrance.

  “Miss van Hamel?” Even his voice sounded weary. “An unexpected pleasure. Forgive me for not standing. Will you not be seated?” He turned to Belmont and gestured for him, also, to take a chair. “I-I expected you to come alone.”

  “I believe I explained Miss van Hamel’s assignment to you. It will be best if we are open before her.”

  Riki promptly assumed an expression she hoped betokened both intelligence and discretion.

  Lord Linton regarded her thoughtfully for a moment then nodded. “As you will.”

  “Now about this rumor?” Gently, Belmont prompted him.

  “Yes.” The older man fell silent for a moment, his gaze once again returning to Riki. “I was sorry your cousin was forced to resign,”

  “He’s quite sorry to leave, I assure you. Pressing family matters,” she added brightly.

  Linton closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows that had been carefully placed to support him. “He knows so very much,” he murmured. As if with a great effort, he focused on Belmont. “There seems to be much going on about which I have been left uninformed.”

  “Not to my knowledge,” Belmont assured him.

  Linton waved that aside. “So they all say. Then tell me, if you will, is there any truth behind this rumor of an assault across the Tagus?”

  Chapter Seventeen

 
Riki started then brought herself under control. That was her rumor, and the only people who had heard it were David and Marie Marley! Her heart lifted at this proof that Mrs. Marley really had passed on her information, then sank again the next moment. Marie was a traitor, even if not the one for whom they’d first looked, and David shortly would lose her to a firing squad.

  “I’ve heard nothing of this.” Belmont’s calm voice broke across her thoughts.

  “No hints at all?” Linton asked. His slight frame leaned forward as his worried gaze scanned Belmont’s impassive features. “Nothing? Then who started the rumor?”

  Belmont shook his head. “I have no idea. You may be at your ease, there is nothing of any moment occurring at this time of which you are not fully aware.” He spoke gently, as if he understood—and fully sympathized with—his brother-in-law’s desperation not to be excluded.

  Riki sank back in her chair, her mind whirling. She’d only learned half of what Belmont needed to know. She still had Marie’s French contact to discover. “Where did you hear this rumor, Lord Linton?” she asked.

  He looked at her as if he had forgotten her presence. “I really don’t remember.”

  “But you only heard it recently,” she pursued. “And it concerned you enough to summon Belmont.”

  The viscount’s eyes narrowed as they rested on her but he held his tongue.

  Linton spread his hands in a deprecating gesture. “It must have been one of the clerks this morning, trying to impress the others with his supposed knowledge.”

  “Or was it before this morning?” Good heavens, what made her speak so directly?

  A dull flush crept into his pale cheeks. “Of course not!”

  Belmont’s gaze swiveled from Riki to his brother-in-law. Never before had he seen the man so uneasy. A muscle twitched at the corner of Linton’s thin mouth in nervous reaction. But to what? And what was Riki doing? He caught her eye.

  She met it with a steady regard. “I started that rumor. Last night at the ball. And I only told two people—David Warwick and Marie Marley.”

  Linton blinked. “Then young Warwick must have told some of his friends at the War Office!”

  Even to Belmont that had the sound of clutching at straws.

  Riki shook her head. “Actually he laughed at me and said I must have gotten it wrong. He started to correct me then caught himself. I don’t think he told anyone. But Mrs. Marley went out again last night after she went home early from the ball.”

  Later, Belmont swore to himself, he would find out just what Riki had been about. At the moment the stark fear on Linton’s face was of more importance. “Did she come to tell you?” he asked, keeping his tone casual, without any trace of accusation, as if the unwelcome certainty had not dawned on him at that moment.

  “No!” Linton gasped the word. “No, wh-why should she?”

  “To confirm the rumor’s truth, I should imagine. Did you tell Mrs. Marley you heard it from me, Riki?”

  She nodded. “And David immediately denied it. So she would need to confirm it before passing it on to her…her contact.”

  Belmont threw her a look that promised retribution later for taking so reckless a course, but right now the results interested him far too much. He turned back to Linton, who now sat erect on the sofa. A gray cast had crept over his pale complexion and he held his hands clenched in his lap. That didn’t prevent them from shaking.

  “How long have you been providing her with information?” He kept his voice calm.

  “I—” Linton shook his head.

  “How did you get it from David without his ever knowing?” Riki leaned forward.

  Belmont gestured her back. “I believe the more pertinent question here is why. You’re no traitor, Linton. How did they force you?”

  Linton drew a ragged breath and let it out slowly. Leaning his head back against the cushions, he closed his eyes. When he spoke at last, it was the merest thread of a sound. “Blackmail.”

  Blackmail? Belmont regarded his brother-in-law with no little curiosity. As far as he knew, the man had led a boringly blameless existence, particularly since his health had begun to fail. “How—” he began, then broke off, not wanting to press.

  Linton’s eyes opened slowly, as if his lids were made of lead. “She—Mrs. Marley—contacted me. She had those letters.” He turned his haggard gaze on Belmont. “Do you remember that brief peace back in ‘01? Before your time, really, I suppose. But there was a definite hope of ending the hostilities. I wrote several letters to highly placed French officials, promising to help smooth the way. I did it without authority—without the knowledge of my superiors, in fact. But the potential consequences were worth the possible risk of disapproval.” His voice rose on a note of fierce determination, a belief in his convictions.

  “There is nothing in that with which to blackmail you.” In his brother-in-law’s eyes, Belmont glimpsed the blighted ambition to be the great peacemaker of Europe. Almost, he could pity him.

  “The letters, unfortunately, were sufficiently vague to serve the purpose of the French. They made one subtle alteration, which is undetectable. I saw them, you see. And anyone else privileged to read them would believe the author a traitor.”

  “What was that change?”

  “They made the ‘one’ into a ‘nine’ in the date.”

  Belmont caught his breath. “And so your offers of aid to the French cause appear to have been made in 1809, when we were deeply engaged in war.”

  Linton nodded. He sagged back on the sofa once more, spent.

  “Why the devil didn’t you tell me?”

  “What could you have done? Who would have believed me? The disgrace, the—” He broke off. Traitors were shot. “Clarissa and little Lawrence—I couldn’t bear it.”

  So he became a traitor in truth. Belmont bit back the acid comment that sprang to his lips. It wouldn’t have occurred to Linton to fight back. He’d crumpled under pressure and the strain ate steadily away at his already faltering health.

  “Tell me the whole and I’ll do what I can for you.”

  “I didn’t give them much at first.” Linton studied his clenched hands. “But they guessed I was passing on useless information and…and they threatened me. They said they’d harm Clarissa if I lied to them again.”

  “Who threatened her?” Belmont demanded, his fists clenching at this cruel use of his sister.

  “Letters. Always in letters, brought by Mrs. Marley. That…that made them seem all the more dangerous. Usually she had no idea what her missives contained. She was only the courier.” He wiped the damp palms of his hands together. “It was the…impersonalness, the coldness, that made them seem so deadly. I never doubted them at all.”

  “Did you keep any?”

  Linton shook his head. “Always, she took them away again. They wanted me to write my information but I refused. Then Warwick arrived in Whitehall.”

  Riki made a noise but Belmont caught her eye and commanded her to silence. “Were they interested in him?”

  Linton almost managed a smile. “Not at first. But later, yes. It seemed safe to pass on things he said. It sounded almost like the ravings of a lunatic at times. By then my health was going. I-I tried to ease myself out of Bathurst’s daily affairs but they kept demanding more.”

  “Did David talk freely to you?” Worry, almost agony, colored Riki’s words.

  “Only when he was in his cups. He doesn’t have a hard head, you know. I’d say he probably wasn’t used to drinking much. He couldn’t even finish one bottle without rambling.” Linton drew a shaky breath and continued. “It was easy enough to invite him over to my table at the club and start him playing piquet. Usually he talked nonsense. But it sounded exactly like the sort of information the French would want, comments on their faulty strategy, where and how they should direct attacks. I don’t think I believed in any of it for a moment. But the French have been doing so well of late.”

  Belmont nodded, his lips tightening in a gri
m line. “Go on.”

  Linton nodded. “They wanted to know my source of information. I told them, hoping they’d release me. And to an extent they did. I was ordered to introduce him to Mrs. Marley and since then—this past month—they’ve left me pretty much alone.”

  “David was being used!” Riki sounded elated. “I told you he didn’t lie to us. He never knew!”

  Belmont didn’t answer. His thoughtful gaze rested on his brother-in-law. “Why did you hit Hillary over the head with that stick?”

  The man cringed. “God, how I hated that. I-I had to discover Miss van Hamel’s business—they ordered me to find out what went on. Young Hil was seen to visit Whitehall when you weren’t there and they were convinced something was up. I had almost reached the rookery when he came along, shouting for you, and how could I explain my presence?”

  “In short, you panicked.”

  Linton nodded, miserable.

  “Do you know anything of a carriage that followed us from Brighton?” Riki asked.

  Linton focused his eyes on her with difficulty. “No. Did one?” He shook his head, obviously not caring about it. “What…what are you going to do with me?”

  “The first thing is to get you out of this.” Belmont drew a deep breath. “I believe you are about to suffer a breakdown.”

  Linton looked quickly at him, panic in his pale-blue eyes.

  “Under your doctor’s orders, you will withdraw from public life, sell your townhouse and retire to your property in the Cotswolds, where you will live retired.”

  “But…Clarissa…”

  “My sister is not so heartless she would want you to continue jeopardizing your health. She may use Belmont House when she wishes to come to town, and you may be very sure that will delight her no end.” He rose. “If I were you, I would begin at once. The sooner you are of no use to them, the sooner you will be free.”

  He took Riki’s arm and almost dragged her out of the room, leaving Linton to accept the wisdom of his advice.

  “So now we know,” Riki breathed as they made their way down the front steps to the waiting curricle.