“Aye, Captain.” Tobin gave a smart salute and then escaped through the window. Philip looked out after him, and was impressed that he had managed to somehow climb the rocky cliff, for it seemed to fall away beneath the window. Tobin, apparently, was a man of hidden talents.
Philip sat back in an armchair and stared into his glass of brandy, thinking. That La Glacier was preparing an army for war, he had no doubt, but did she intend for Napoleon to lead that army, or someone else? He was glad Tobin was on his way to Wellington, for he did not want his Grace to be caught unawares.
Meanwhile, Philip needed to discover what else was hidden inside of this cliff wall, if anything, and when the army planned to act.
Wellington was sending men to Elba to warn those Navy ships guarding the island to be on alert, but what if it was all a ruse to throw them off the real trail?
Philip removed his boots, and decided he might as well try to get some rest. He turned down his lamp and leaned back in the chair. He was not quite ready to turn in. Perhaps listening to the waves in the dark would calm his mind; his thoughts were racing with information. What was La Glacier about? Something heinous, that was a surety. She must be deliberately trying to lead them astray, and he needed to remain ahead of her.
Then there was a growing problem with the Lady Amelia. He could not ignore his attraction to her, at least to himself. There, he had admitted it. What should he do about that? Falling prey to emotion was the cardinal sin of being a spy, but it was not as if he could control the feeling. Thus far he had been able to control any outward reaction, but for how long could he continue? At all costs, he must avoid physical contact from now on.
When he thought of her sweet lips and her innocent response to him this evening, he could only wish for different circumstances, but there was no possibility of a future between the two of them beyond this assignment. Even if this investigation led to nothing and there was no war forthcoming, he was not an eligible match for her.
He cared enough about her to admit as much. Were he to accept his brother-in-law’s offer, he could make much-needed improvements to his estates. The monies forthcoming would not allow him to keep someone like Lady Amelia in gowns and jewels for the life in Town to which she was suited.
There had been times, while sitting watch or riding with messages from place to place, when he’d had time to think of what might have been if he were not a military man. He had surprised even himself by feeling a longing for the life in which he had grown up. That feeling still persisted.
“Maybe one day, Philip, but it will not be with someone like her.”
The faster this assignment was over and he could be away from her, the better, he mused, swallowing the final drop of brandy.
A flashing light caught his attention.
“Tobin,” Philip muttered under his breath. He jumped up to look out of the window. It was difficult to see through the darkness.
Was Captain Frome out there, somewhere, to help? That there was a boat approaching the fortress, there could be no doubt. The tide was in and he could hear the heave-to of the oars as the crewmen rowed. Somewhere in the distant house a clock chimed one o’clock—in the morning, a time when the household was certain to be abed.
With the danger to be had, why would La Glacier be doing business in the dark of night unless it was of an illegal nature? Perhaps it was the unlawful doings with England La Glacier had alluded to at dinner?
Philip frowned. He needed to find out. He put his boots back on and his coat, then checked to make certain his pistol and knife were in place. He put one booted foot out of the window, reminding himself that Tobin had been able to do it, therefore so should he.
A more foolish sentiment there could not be, he argued with his shrewder self as he looked down below, over the first ledge, and at the water crashing against the rocks. He began to descend slowly, one hand and one foot at a time, until he reached an opening where his foot had nowhere to take hold. He jumped and landed in the mouth of another cave in the side of the cliff.
Had Tobin seen this place? It was not marked on his map, and Philip had not seen it during his previous attempts at reconnoitring.
Stupidly, he had not brought a light, but it would be risky to shine one about with the boat coming in, in any case. Hopefully, in the dinghy, Captain Frome was aware of the visitors, for Philip would not be able to reach the landing point in time. He felt around the cave as best he could, but hampered by the darkness, began to think he might be better served to come again early in the morning. As he turned to go, he heard a buzzing sound coming towards him, and he ducked just in time to miss a colony of bats take flight over his head. Rattled enough for the night, he abandoned the cave and headed back up the cliff to his room.
The next morning, Amelia awoke early, excited at the prospect of spending the day painting. When she made her way downstairs, a basket of food had been prepared for her, and a maid informed her that an easel and paints had been carried down to the beach. Amelia did not wait for Captain Elliot. Quite frankly, she needed some time to think. After repairing to her room to fetch a bonnet, she hurried out to the courtyard and down the steps to the beach with the basket of food her aunt had so thoughtfully had prepared for her.
Once standing before the easel, she studied her subject and wondered what, precisely, Captain Elliot wanted from her.
It was a fascinating place. The house stood atop the cliff and was only a small part of the whole. Amelia would never have guessed there were prisons and tunnels beneath had Captain Elliot not told her. Suddenly the mood to paint took hold, and she simply began to depict what she thought was best. Choosing an angle with the sun behind her, highlighting the ocean, the cliffs and the house on top, she loaded a brush to apply a wash of colour.
When she at length stood back to survey her work, a clapping sound nearly startled her out of her wits. She turned about.
“You nearly frightened me to death!”
“I have been here an hour and you did not even notice. Very impressive,” Captain Elliot said, doubtless mocking her.
“I fear I become absorbed in my work, sir. I beg your pardon.”
“Thankfully, no one was here to harm you. May I say it is probably not the best idea to lose yourself in the moment when working on an assignment?”
Amelia felt her cheeks flush. It was one thing she hated about her fair skin—she could never hide her embarrassment.
“It is of little consequence, now.” He looked toward her painting. “Is this one for your aunt or for me?”
“I do not know. I was not certain what scene you might care for, so I simply painted.”
He turned back to the cliffs. “Come here a moment. I want to show you something.”
She did as he asked, and then he moved close behind her, disturbing her recently found peace. Once behind her, he rested his arm on her shoulder and pointed.
“Do you see the window, just below the chimney, on the north side?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“That is my bedchamber. Just below that window, and across by about thirty feet, is a small cave.”
“Oh, yes I see it! What is inside?”
“I do not know, yet. It was too dark last night to see.”
“You climbed down to that cave? Are you insane?”
“Most likely,” he replied amiably. “I suspect there are more of those, and that is what I would like you to look for as you paint.”
“In a map form?”
“No, I think it is best if you keep to painting what you see. Tobin was gracious enough to visit me last night and draw a map. He was a prisoner here, you know.”
“I had forgotten,” she said quietly, not wanting to think of her aunt being a political pawn for Napoleon.
“Last night, the rascal decided to provide her guards below with a keg of brandy, and took the opportunity to explore a little further.”
Amelia waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent. “Are you going to tell me wh
at he found?”
“Are you certain you wish to hear?”
“When you put it like that, of course I want to hear! If you only intend to infuriate me, you may leave me now.”
“And forgo the delicious picnic your aunt provided? I think not. Come, be seated and I shall tell you what I found while we eat.”
Amelia felt a sinking feeling inside, but it had been several hours since she had left the house, so she sat in one of the two wooden chairs left by the servants and accepted a piece of cheese, some fruit and a glass of apple cider from the Captain.
She took a few bites of food in between sips of her drink and soon felt much refreshed.
“Will you tell me what Tobin found?” she prompted when she felt prepared to hear it.
“First, there is some good news. He did not find any prisoners. He found only the guards.”
“That is in agreement with what she told us.”
“Indeed. The bad news, however, is that he found enough supplies to outfit an army for a lengthy war.”
“What kind of supplies do you mean, exactly?” Amelia asked warily.
“Guns, swords, cannon, ammunition, fresh uniforms...”
“Enough!” She held up her hands. Her aunt had still not lied to her in so many words. “No olives?” she asked, attempting to lighten her mood.
“I asked the same question. Tobin did not notice any food stores other than brandy.”
“Of course,” she retorted. “What happens next?”
“I sent Tobin to report directly to Wellington. I suspect he will need to warn the King.”
“King Louis?”
“Yes, a large proportion of his subjects are not loyal; it is too soon after the revolution. Whatever else he may or may not be, Napoleon is a leader of the people, I will allow him that.”
“The situation is very similar to what happened in the colonies.”
“True. I cannot fault any man for wishing for a better life. I must argue the difference, however. The people in the colonies tried to leave peacefully. They did not behead their leaders.”
“Is that where you were going when the ship was wrecked?”
“Yes... to a war I was not certain I fully supported.” He rubbed his chin. “But I should be careful what I say.”
“Your words are safe with me. I know very little about the matter, but it seems the people were being taxed to an unfair degree.”
“That was their claim, yes.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I am very glad you are here, then. That is something I have never liked about war.”
“Which part?” he asked with a chuckle.
“The part where soldiers are merely pawns of the rich, who sit in their comfortable castles and mansions, making decisions and playing chess with the lives of others. I doubt not most ordinary soldiers have no notion of what they are fighting for.”
“At times, it does feel that way, but it has been the same since the dawn of time. A soldier always knows they are fighting for their country, though, and being under another country’s rule is worse.”
“I had not considered that. Mayhap you are right.”
As they sat in peaceful contemplation, Amelia lifted her face to the sun.
“You are begging for more spots,” Captain Elliot teased.
“At the moment I do not care. It feels glorious.” She stole a sideways glance at him, and he was smiling at her. Their eyes met for a moment and her heart gave a little leap; immediately, she turned away. “When do you plan to explore the cave?” she asked, in an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness she felt.
“I should have done so at first light this morning, but I overslept,” he admitted.
“What do you think is in there?”
“Perhaps nothing, but I must look.”
“It seems as though it would be difficult to reach.”
“It is. It would not be useful unless accessible from the inside.”
“May I go with you?” she asked diffidently, keeping her gaze lowered as she played with a handful of sand, enjoying the cool feel of it running through her fingers.
“Absolutely not. It is extremely dangerous.”
She huffed with irritation even though she had expected such a response. “May I at least keep a lookout for you?”
“I want you to stay in your bed, all nice and snug, and out of harm’s way.”
“And if you fall down the cliff?”
“I shall be dead, whether you are there or not.”
“Why do you not use a rope?”
“I believe I shall,” he answered smugly.
“Why will you not accept help? We are supposed to be partners.”
“I am accepting your help. You are painting a map of sorts for me, and you are relating information to me. Speaking of which, I should probably escort you back to your aunt. The shadows are lengthening.”
“Very well, if you insist on being stubborn.”
“I do.”
Amelia knew he was trying to protect her, but his rejection hurt her feelings nevertheless. She wanted to be part of the excitement, too.
“I think I know where it leads to,” Captain Elliot remarked as she was packing up her paints.
Amelia looked up to the cave mouth to see her aunt standing nearby with a man Amelia could not make out from this distance.
“Do you think it leads to her private apartment?” she asked.
“I could not say, but it is my belief there is a vast area under the house which we have not yet found. Allow me,” he said, taking the picnic basket. “We will return to the house before we are seen watching them.”
Chapter 12
Philip pulled himself out of bed just as the sun was creeping over the horizon. He knew it would be his best chance to look for whatever was in that hidden cave. Seeing La Glacier standing there yesterday had only confirmed it was some kind of secret entrance. He put on a jacket and trousers of bleached nankeen cloth, being close to the colour of the rocks should he be seen by any of the guards. Then he secured a rope he’d borrowed from the stables around the heaviest piece of furniture he could find—a solid walnut chest of drawers—so that he would have a safer and quicker way to return to his room.
He pushed into his pockets everything he could think he might need—a gun, a small lamp, and a drawing book and pencil. Checking the rope one more time, he had opened the window to climb out when he heard a light knock on his door.
Philip muttered a curse. He had locked it, of course, but now he had to answer.
For less than a second, he stared at Lady Amelia. Reaching out, he hauled her into his room and thrust the door to with a snap.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in an angry whisper. “Do you realize you could compromise everything?”
“Good morning to you too, sir,’ she whispered. “I have come to make sure you are safe.”
“You are more likely to cause the opposite,” he snapped. This interference in his plans was not what he needed. Why had he trusted her with such information? “Very well. Since you are here, you can be my lookout. There is a spyglass on my table. Pull the rope three times if you see something I need to return for. Pull four times if there is danger and I need to remain below.”
“Three to return, four to stay. I can manage that.”
Philip climbed out of the window and hoped Amelia would do as she was told. With the aid of the rope, he scaled the cliff quickly. It was far less daunting by daylight. By his best estimate, it was only about thirty feet to the opening in the cliff and he tied the end of the rope around his waist once he reached the landing so he would feel Amelia’s warnings should she need to give them.
It soon became dark inside, since the sun did not reach beyond the first few feet. He pulled out his lanthorn and lit it; before long he found a door, some fifteen feet or more hidden inside the cave. He tried the latch, and although it was rusted, it was not locked.
Once inside, he prayed he would not find any unpleasant surprises... s
uch as a guard dog or bats…
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. The smell was much the same as the one he had noticed when below in Madame’s office; a salty, musty odour of damp. Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of dripping water, which indicated he was in a large, open space. He held up the lanthorn and was shocked to see how far the light spread in the vast cave. In fact, having walked as far as the rope could reach, he had to take it off in order to keep going.
It was similar to one of Wellington’s war rooms. There were charts and maps covering the wall, and there was a large table filling the centre. Never would he have guessed this room existed had the Irish rogue not paid him a visit night before last! It was so well hidden away from the caves and tunnels near the beach.
“Aha!” he whispered when he came upon a model of an island. There were detailed plans of how they intended to remove the Emperor, but he could not find a date. Philip began sorting through a pile of papers, trying desperately to find any sign of when it would happen. If La Glacier truly intended to leave when her nieces left, he and his comrades were going to be short of time to prepare. Over half the British army was fighting in America! How would they defend themselves?
“It has to be here somewhere!”
“What has to be here?” His heart all but stopped. Slowly looking up as he fought his sudden alarm, he saw Lady Amelia standing before him. She had managed to sneak up on him admirably. He was definitely losing his touch!
“What the devil are you doing in here?” He struggled to keep his voice to a whisper. Although his anger had to be evident, he was barely containing it.
“I was growing worried. You have been down here a very long time and I felt the tension on the rope give way.”
“Did you scale the cliff?” he asked in disbelief, eyeing her skirts.
“I had practice once before climbing down a rope, if you recall when Thurgood kidnapped me.”
Philip blew out a frustrated breath. “You are here now, so help me look.”
“What are we looking for?”
“A date. I know what is planned, but I need to know when they mean to do it.”
Not Forgotten Page 11
