Turncoat

by Deborah Chester

  “I—”

  Still chuckling, the lieutenant clapped him on the shoulder and strolled back into the shop.

  When the door slammed shut, Noel leaned his head against the wall and shut his eyes for a moment. Leon had certainly made himself known. It was disconcerting to keep running into his friends.

  Squeezing himself deeper into the alley, Noel crouched behind a set of side steps where he could remain unseen. Stripping off his gloves, he brought his signet ring close to his lips.

  “LOC, activate,” he whispered.

  The ring grew warm on his burned finger.

  Noel winced. “Any sign of Leon?”

  “Negative.”

  “I wish the fool still had his LOC. He’d be easy to trace.” Only God knew what kind of havoc Leon would have caused with it.

  “Please specify instructions.”

  “Have you found any evidence of tampering with history?”

  “I have received no such instructions. Please specify.”

  Noel sighed. “This is not my day. Look, we don’t have time to mess around. Usually you’re yelling about anomalies and altered history or giving me warnings. What about it?”

  “I will scan,” said the LOC austerely.

  It hummed busily for a while.

  “Well?” demanded Noel finally.

  “Parameters are too vague.”

  Noel groaned and rested his forehead on his knees.

  “Are you ill, sir?” asked a kindly voice.

  Startled, Noel jumped to his feet and whirled around.

  He found himself face to face with Sally Crewe’s little brother. The boy was lean and gawky, lacking his sister’s grace. He was as fair as she, his features honest and goodwilled. He seemed as astonished to see Noel as Noel was to see him.

  “Mr. Nardek,” he said and smiled. “I found the doctor and sent him on to the farm. I thought you’d still be out there.”

  Noel hid his left hand at his side and hoped the LOC wouldn’t volunteer any information on its own. “No, I had to come in. I—I don’t know your name, boy.”

  The boy frowned. “Don’t know my—I beg your pardon. Are you hoaxing me? Of course you know me. Good heavens, you saw me not an hour ago. I’m Robert Crewe.”

  Noel could have kicked himself for forgetting the boy’s name and giving himself away. Still, it seemed he was doomed to constantly repeat his explanation.

  “You’re wrong,” he said impatiently. “I’m not Leon. I’m his brother.”

  “Jupiter!” said Robert in awe. “Are you, sir? You look ever so like him. When you came up to the house, big as life, I naturally thought—”

  “There was too much confusion for introductions. My name is Kedran.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry I mistook you, Mr. Kedran.” The boy put out his hand to shake. “But you’re very like him.”

  “Twins.”

  “Yes, I can see that now. How odd. But you aren’t an officer, are you, sir?”

  “No. Not on the British side either.”

  Robert glanced around. “Please, sir, not so loud. It pays to be careful around these Tories.”

  “Your sister’s one.”

  Robert turned red and looked at his feet. “I know. I’ve tried my best to reason with her, but she won’t listen. You won’t give away her game, will you, sir?”

  Noel didn’t have any idea of what he was talking about, but there wasn’t any point in saying so. He slipped his left hand into his pocket. “No, I won’t give her away.”

  “Thank you! Only, why are you in the alley if you’re looking for Lieutenant Nardek?”

  Noel slung his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “That is a very good question. Why don’t I ask you one first?”

  Robert’s blue eyes were guileless and steady. “Of course.”

  “Do you like my brother?”

  Robert’s face flamed red again.

  “No, please be honest. I won’t be offended either way.”

  “But he’s Major Burton’s adjutant. I can’t say.”

  “You already have,” said Noel gently. He took his arm from the boy’s shoulders.

  Robert looked agitated. “You’ve tricked an answer from me, but I’ve said nothing against him. I—”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” said Noel. “I don’t like him much either.”

  “Then why are you looking for him?”

  “It’s a family matter. My, uh, father wants him to come home.”

  “Jupiter!” said Robert, looking much impressed. “All the way to England?”

  “Yes, it’s a very long way home.”

  “But if he’s needed, sir, why don’t you just go to his commanding officer and relay the message that your brother must sell out? I’m sure Major Burton would understand. He’s pretty decent, after all.”

  “I thought you weren’t a Tory.”

  Robert widened his eyes. “I’m not! But I’m no traitor either.”

  “Ah, neutral ground, is it?”

  “I have to be,” said Robert, “what with Sally’s—but I mustn’t speak of that. I promised.”

  Sally, thought Noel grimly, was in intrigue up to her pretty eyebrows. He pretended not to notice what Robert’s naive remarks were giving away. “Well, you have a sensible head on your shoulders, Robert. I would go to Major Burton, but I’m not dressed for calling on an officer, am I?”

  Robert looked him over critically. “Well, you are a bit ragged round the edges, sir.”

  “Yeah, you’re a born diplomat. I tried to buy myself a new suit, but the tailor didn’t want my business.”

  Robert snorted. “Marley? He’s an old ninny hammer if ever I saw one. His competition would deal with you, I’m sure.”

  Noel had already decided that he should stay off the streets for a while. If too many of Leon’s friends saw him, word would get back to Leon quickly enough. He didn’t want his twin warned.

  “I have another idea,” he said. “I’m going to wait for my brother in his rooms. Your sister said he lodges with Ezekiel Smyth. Can you give me directions?”

  “I can do better than that. I’ll show you the house.”

  “Thanks.” Noel glanced at the busy street and headed deeper into the alley. “Let’s take the back way.”

  Robert shot him a suspicious look. “You’re kind of a rum one, aren’t you, sir?”

  Noel lengthened his stride so that Robert had to hurry to keep pace with him. “What did the doctor say when you sent him to Peterson?”

  Robert stuck his hands in his breeches pockets and scowled.

  Noel glanced at him in surprise. “Didn’t you find him?”

  Still Robert said nothing.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Robert scowled more fiercely. “It’s better we not talk of that, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “The doctor’s no friend.”

  “What’s that to do with whether he can save a man’s life?”

  Robert shook his head. “Who’s to say what Peterson may utter in his delirium? I’ve warned Sally over and over not to get involved, but you know how older sisters are. She thinks I’m too little to know anything and I’m not.”

  “I never had a sister,” said Noel. “Lucky, I guess.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to speak against Sally. She can be a great gun, but since she went into politics, well, I don’t mind saying it’s got me in a fret.”

  He looked up at Noel and his blue eyes held baffled fury. “I heard the doctor talking to Ollenby. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the window was open just a crack. They were—were talking about the plot and—”

  “What plot?”

  Robert gripped his coat and glanced around. “Please keep your voice down, sir.”

  “What plot?” asked Noel more softly.

  “I don’t know,” said Robert, but it was plain he was lying. He shot Noel an anguished look. “If they hadn’t mentioned Sally’s name, I wouldn’t have lingered, but I had to listen then.”

 
; “Of course you did. What did they say?”

  “I daresay I shouldn’t trust you. I don’t know you at all.”

  “Better not tell me any secrets,” said Noel lightly, but he was conscious of a stab of concern. Robert was too young to be involved with the plots of war. For that matter, so was his very pretty sister. Don’t get involved, Noel reminded himself.

  “But you brought Peterson in for help. That must mean you have a kind heart. And your eyes are honest, not like your brother’s at all,” confided Robert naively. “It’s just that they suspect Sally. I’ve tried to tell her she is sailing too close to the wind, but she won’t listen. The major is just trifling with her affections. And she believes everything he tells her.”

  “Okay, so she’s in love with Major Burton,” said Noel, watching the street ahead of them. He crossed over and went down another alley to avoid a trio of soldiers. “What’s that got to do with Peterson and the doctor you don’t trust?”

  Robert hunched his shoulders and looked ashamed. “I wasn’t going to go in. It made me so angry I could wish Peterson at the devil. Though Lord knows, if he dies, he may end up there.”

  “Don’t get off the subject,” said Noel. “What did you tell the doctor?”

  “He saw me at the window and looked no end put out. I told him as little as possible but, Jupiter, someone will put it together. Peterson is such a booby for getting hurt. He was to do no more than convey a message to Sally when he passed through the country, but now here he is laid up at the house and like to die. There’ll be questions, no matter what. The major is bound to have suspicions when he hears about this, and the doctor will repeat anything Peterson blurts out.”

  Trouble, Sally had said. Retaliations. Noel considered it. “I seem to have done you no favor by bringing the man to your house.”

  “Well, it’s not your fault, sir,” said Robert with ready generosity. “You know nothing of this business. I just wish I hadn’t come to town. I could have told Sally Dr. Selincourt wasn’t to be found, and she’d have believed that. Peterson looked ready to stick his spoon in the wall, and you said it yourself that he hasn’t much of a chance. Bert Myers took a toss last year and he died of it straightaway, even with the doctor there.”

  Noel frowned at him. “That’s no reason not to try, Robert.”

  “I know it!” said Robert. He bit his lip. “But Peterson’s a patriot, up to his neck in treason, and if they find out Sally’s harboring such a fellow in the house, she’ll be done for. And the major won’t save her. She thinks he’d go bail for her, but I don’t. It’s just too big of a risk, sir. Don’t you see?”

  Noel saw very well. Revolt wasn’t just a cause or an abstraction. It meant becoming a traitor, turning against the established authority, risking life, property, and honor to go against the beliefs of the majority. Now he understood why Sally Crewe had been afraid of him when he first came to the house with Peterson in tow. She’d thought him on the British side, and Peterson was a clear implication of her sympathies with the patriots. Only…Robert had said that Sally was a Tory. It didn’t add up, unless…

  “She’s a double agent, isn’t she?”

  Robert stopped dead in his tracks. His face went as white as his cravat, but he shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

  “Forget it, Robert. You lie worse than I do. And you talk too much. You trust too much.”

  Robert flushed to the roots of his hair. “I—”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t betray you or your sister. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Thank you!” said Robert, gripping his arm with such relief in his eyes that Noel had to look away. “Ever since Papa died, there’s been no handling her. She thinks she’s up to the mark, but she’s green when it comes to politics. And I can’t protect her because she won’t let me.”

  “No, I guess not.” Noel looked into the boy’s worried eyes. “As for this mysterious plot that’s hatching in town, is my brother involved in it?”

  “I’m sure of it! That is, he always seems to know what’s going on. He’s like a cat with his whiskers in every corner. I avoid him when I can because it’s as though he can read my mind.”

  Startled, Noel gripped Robert’s shoulder. “Nonsense.”

  “Well, yes, but he’s awfully sharp and he always seems to know what you’re going to do before you do it. You know what I mean.”

  “I do indeed,” said Noel softly. Leon’s telepathy enabled him to manipulate minds. He could convince people that they’d known him forever. He could make them do what he wanted. Noel, on the other hand, had no such ability. He was always scrambling to gain trust and having to dodge suspicion.

  “Here’s where he lodges,” said Robert, halting by a trim house with green shutters. Its boxwood hedge glittered with melting ice. A yellow tabby cat sat on the front steps and stared at them coldly.

  Noel stared up at the house. “On the third floor?”

  “Yes. I’d better get home. Sally will be anxious about me. And she may need help.”

  Noel shook hands with him. “Thanks for your help, Robert. If anything goes wrong, I’ll help out.”

  “Oh! Yes, thank you,” said Robert, nodding at the greeting of some men who passed by. “But we can surely manage. Goodbye!”

  Robert darted off up the street with his coattails flying.

  Noel watched him, thankful that he didn’t have to deal with the problems of the Crewe family. For once his task seemed simple. All he had to do was wait for Leon in his room. If by some miracle history hadn’t been changed, there was nothing to delay recall.

  He shifted his hand in his pocket, where his LOC still glowed warmly around his burned finger. The discomfort of that had grown past his ability to hide it, and he was glad Robert was finally gone.

  “LOC, deactivate,” he murmured, and it shut down.

  Pulling his hand from his pocket, he hesitated a moment, then walked up the steps. He opened the door without knocking and entered. The interior of the house was warm, stuffy, and dark. It smelled of beeswax, tobacco, lavender, and cooked cabbage. A maid in an apron and mobcap crouched on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor.

  “Mind you get none of that mud on my clean floor, Lieutenant,” she said sharply but gave him a broad wink.

  Knowing exactly how Leon would react, Noel said nothing as he passed her, but he gave her backside a roguish pinch that left her giggling. He went up the stairs, carrying his filthy shoes in his hand. On the landing a longcase clock ticked solemnly.

  Time passing…but right now things seemed to be going in his favor. He entered Leon’s room without anyone challenging him and shut the door with a sag of relief. Wiping the nervous perspiration from his face, he glanced around at the furnishings. The ashes had been swept up from the hearth, and the room was cold. There was a narrow rope bed, a washstand with a jug and basin of plain porcelain, a small table containing a wig stand and a pair of silver-backed brushes. Digging through the chest, Noel found a pair of new top boots, some buckskin breeches, clean linen, and a mulberry-hued coat that still had the tailor’s bill pinned to it. Everything fit well enough, and although once Noel would have rather died than wear Leon’s clothes, now he was simply grateful to find them.

  Dressed and cleaned up, he pulled out his empty pistol and loaded it with the powder and shot he found along with Leon’s spare uniform. There was a thin book lying on the bed’s pillow. Bound in much-worn calf, with a ribbon for the marker, it was a collection of poetry. Leon had written his name on the flyleaf, along with the date he’d purchased the volume.

  Holding the little book, Noel suddenly felt a pang inside. In that instant he could imagine his duplicate walking into a bookshop and buying the secondhand book of poems with a sense of accomplishment. He could imagine Leon’s pride in writing his name on the page, in owning something, in having a possession.

  Had Leon ever owned anything before? Had Leon ever felt settled somewhere? Found a home for himself? Made friends? Bec
ome a part of a community?

  How could he? Leon was a freak, the result of an accident in the time stream. His duplication was against nature. He couldn’t be allowed to continue as he was, for he was supposed to exist as a part of Noel.

  Leon had often said he wanted to belong somewhere. Much of his hatred of Noel stemmed from the frustration of being yanked from place to place as Noel moved through the time stream.

  No, Leon could never make a life for himself. Could never have a family. Could never belong.

  And for the first time, Noel realized the loneliness Leon must feel. These meager possessions were pathetic in how well they were cared for, in how proud Leon was of them.

  He put the book down, aghast at what he’d perceived. Leon was a monster, but the problem was he knew it and wanted to be something else.

  “Impossible,” whispered Noel.

  Leon would never change. Even supposing he had lived in this time for weeks or months and had restrained himself from changing history, or from trying to destroy the future, even supposing that he hoped to blend in here apart and undiscovered by Noel, he could not be allowed to continue. The laws of nature would not permit Noel and Leon to remain split. Noel had reluctantly accepted the fact that he must have Leon’s darkness back inside himself. Leon would never consent to become a part of Noel’s personality again.

  Noel wandered back across the room. Sympathy or not, it was a trap he laid here. Noel sighed and, with his pistol in his hand, settled himself to wait for his twin’s arrival.

  Chapter 7

  Galloping down a dirt road at dusk, the cold air snapping in his ears, Leon grinned to himself with satisfaction. The news he’d managed to gather on today’s scouting trip would delight Major Burton. He’d been to watch practice troop maneuvers, skirting Valley Forge and finding it easy to blank the sentries’ stupid minds and slip past. Several sketches in his pocket would testify that Washington’s ragtag forces had indeed learned to march and drill during the winter. Yes, the major would be very pleased with the wealth of information he had to offer. And if his scheme to assassinate Washington succeeded, Leon was counting on a promotion.