been trying to prevent the moment of revelation with her defensive tactics, or whether she’d been playing them simply to prove that she was not a dupe to be easily manipulated.
“Very well. What have you to say?”
“Frederick was a brave and dedicated man.” Greville’s manner had changed. His tone was stripped of all nuance, even his posture seemed more upright, his gaze more deliberately direct, as if with a fierce need to convince her. “He was the best partner I have had…and I’ve had many.”
“I daresay they don’t survive very long.” Aurelia heard the sardonic note but was unable to control it.
“No,” he agreed flatly. “We fight a well-trained, well-provisioned, and highly motivated enemy. Bonaparte has but one aim, complete dominion over the known world. You understand that?”
“My husband gave his life in that fight.”
“Yes, and he did not die in vain.”
A glaze of tears filmed Aurelia’s eyes, and she turned her head away from the direct gray gaze across the table. “I wonder what difference it would have made to the war if he’d chosen not to give his life. He would have known his daughter and she him, and I would be sitting opposite my husband at the breakfast table instead of…” Her words stuck in her throat and she waved a hand impatiently as if to dismiss the incipient tears and the emotions that had brought them.
She got up from the table and walked to the window,holding the looped-back curtain with one hand as she looked out at the small square of walled garden, the trees still leafless.
“It’s not possible to quantify one man’s sacrifice,” Greville said quietly. “I can only tell you again that Frederick did not die in vain. He completed his mission by getting the document out of Portugal and into the right hands at the War Ministry. It was an achievement of resounding importance. The service can ill afford to lose such men.”
“And what do you want of me?”
He chose his words carefully. “You have access to certain situations…certain people in particular…an access that can be very useful to me.”
She whirled back to him, hand still on the curtain. “I beg your pardon?”
“My present mission in London requires me to circulate in the social circles that you inhabit so naturally.” His voice was unwavering, his gaze as steady as ever. “It would help me greatly in my work if you would facilitate my access into those circles.”
“What mission?” She was holding the curtain so tightly that her fingers had gone numb.
“I will tell you, but I must ask you for your solemn undertaking that you will not mention a word of what’s said in this room to anyone.”
She looked at him. “I’ve already agreed to keep all talk of our dealings to myself.”
“True enough. But trust is something one cannottake for granted in my business. And so I ask you again to honor your husband’s memory. And his wishes. He would want you to hear me out…and he would trust you to keep my confidence.”
She turned back to the window, seeing nothing of the garden beyond the glass, seeing only Frederick’s words clearly on the page of his letter. To betray the colonel’s trust would be the same as betraying Frederick’s. And to dismiss the colonel without hearing him out would be to ignore her dead husband’s last request. “Go on.”
“We suspect that the Spaniards are establishing an espionage network in London. The information that we have is that they will infiltrate the upper echelons of society. Obviously, we, in turn, intend to infiltrate their network.”
He found it disconcerting to talk to her back. Her back was rigid, her shoulders set, but her posture gave him none of the feedback that her face and eyes would have afforded. But he could not command her to turn around. And neither at this delicate stage could he take those slender shoulders as he wanted to do and turn her to face him.
“What has this to do with me?”
“It’s been many
“Very well. What have you to say?”
“Frederick was a brave and dedicated man.” Greville’s manner had changed. His tone was stripped of all nuance, even his posture seemed more upright, his gaze more deliberately direct, as if with a fierce need to convince her. “He was the best partner I have had…and I’ve had many.”
“I daresay they don’t survive very long.” Aurelia heard the sardonic note but was unable to control it.
“No,” he agreed flatly. “We fight a well-trained, well-provisioned, and highly motivated enemy. Bonaparte has but one aim, complete dominion over the known world. You understand that?”
“My husband gave his life in that fight.”
“Yes, and he did not die in vain.”
A glaze of tears filmed Aurelia’s eyes, and she turned her head away from the direct gray gaze across the table. “I wonder what difference it would have made to the war if he’d chosen not to give his life. He would have known his daughter and she him, and I would be sitting opposite my husband at the breakfast table instead of…” Her words stuck in her throat and she waved a hand impatiently as if to dismiss the incipient tears and the emotions that had brought them.
She got up from the table and walked to the window,holding the looped-back curtain with one hand as she looked out at the small square of walled garden, the trees still leafless.
“It’s not possible to quantify one man’s sacrifice,” Greville said quietly. “I can only tell you again that Frederick did not die in vain. He completed his mission by getting the document out of Portugal and into the right hands at the War Ministry. It was an achievement of resounding importance. The service can ill afford to lose such men.”
“And what do you want of me?”
He chose his words carefully. “You have access to certain situations…certain people in particular…an access that can be very useful to me.”
She whirled back to him, hand still on the curtain. “I beg your pardon?”
“My present mission in London requires me to circulate in the social circles that you inhabit so naturally.” His voice was unwavering, his gaze as steady as ever. “It would help me greatly in my work if you would facilitate my access into those circles.”
“What mission?” She was holding the curtain so tightly that her fingers had gone numb.
“I will tell you, but I must ask you for your solemn undertaking that you will not mention a word of what’s said in this room to anyone.”
She looked at him. “I’ve already agreed to keep all talk of our dealings to myself.”
“True enough. But trust is something one cannottake for granted in my business. And so I ask you again to honor your husband’s memory. And his wishes. He would want you to hear me out…and he would trust you to keep my confidence.”
She turned back to the window, seeing nothing of the garden beyond the glass, seeing only Frederick’s words clearly on the page of his letter. To betray the colonel’s trust would be the same as betraying Frederick’s. And to dismiss the colonel without hearing him out would be to ignore her dead husband’s last request. “Go on.”
“We suspect that the Spaniards are establishing an espionage network in London. The information that we have is that they will infiltrate the upper echelons of society. Obviously, we, in turn, intend to infiltrate their network.”
He found it disconcerting to talk to her back. Her back was rigid, her shoulders set, but her posture gave him none of the feedback that her face and eyes would have afforded. But he could not command her to turn around. And neither at this delicate stage could he take those slender shoulders as he wanted to do and turn her to face him.
“What has this to do with me?”
“It’s been many
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