The Consummate Traitor (Trilogy of Treason)

by Bonnie Toews

  She looked away, beyond Grace, past the bond pulling them together to crowds, waiting to see the spectacle of the Royal Cavalcade and the Epsom Derby Race. They picnicked for free on the common land beside the finishing stretch. The track for the thoroughbreds competing on the mile-and-a-half course started with a climb, which rose one hundred and fifty feet in the first half before gradually turning at Tottenham Corner into a downhill stretch to the straightaway to finish on a considerable rise to the winning post. It was demanding of any champion, a test for the bravest heart.

  Grace’s quiet patience drew Lee’s attention back to her. Grace’s eyes, as clear as the blue sky above, were filled with concern. Lee knew the subtle cosmetic changes were only meant to disguise the famous pianist’s features, not to mimic her own. But, it was the switch from flaxen to dark hair and her penciled brows, not the blunt cut, that created the astonishing likeness. Grace’s ethereal beauty had been transformed into sensual vulnerability, which reached out and touched her with such familiarity she longed to run from it.

  Even without planning what they wore, Lee mused, Grace’s lavender silk suit and magnificent picture hat, angled to hide her face, along with traditional white gloves harmonized with Lee’s mint green tailored dress and tulle-covered straw hat.

  The silence between them spread. Lee couldn’t find the words. Morgan shouldn’t have insisted on their seeing each other, even if it was their last chance to be together. It was just too difficult. A letter would have been fine, a letter along with the special gift of her daughter.

  Kendra stirred in Lee’s arms. Grace’s gaze fell to the sweet smelling baby she held. Lee had dressed Kendra in a pretty pink smock and wrapped her in a crocheted white blanket. As was the fashion, she had gathered her wispy fleece of blond hair and brushed it into one big curl on top of her head.

  “From the ashes of sin, the seed of innocence,” Grace observed in a barely audible voice, yet her words cut into Lee like a stonemason’s chisel, perfectly clean and straight, exposing the truth without understanding it.

  Grace dissolved in delight as the baby’s tiny fingers explored her hand. “May I hold her?” she asked wistfully.

  Lee nodded, not trusting her voice, and handed the yawning baby over to Grace who instinctively cradled her against her breast and gently rocked her in her arms.

  “She’s so beautiful. What is she now… nine months?”

  “Ten. She was born September 24th.”

  Envy niggled Lee. Grace, for whom everything, including motherhood, came so easily, was picking up her life as if the war had never happened, while the war had left an ugly scar across Lee’s soul. Every time she looked into a mirror she was bitterly reminded of its deception. She slept with the war. She woke with the war. It was difficult to tell when, or if, the war would ever end for her. But, Grace seemed spared from her torment. She embraced peace and was ready to move on. The difference between them also made it easier for Lee to carry out her decision. She wasted no words, and no sentiment.

  “I want you to have my baby, Grace.”

  She spoke so matter-of-factly, Grace looked puzzled.

  “What did you say?”

  “She’ll be safe with you.”

  Grace’s eyes widened in alarm.

  “What are you talking about? No one is going to harm your baby.”

  Lee enunciated her words precisely.

  “I want you to keep my baby, Grace.”

  “No, no, you don’t, Lee.”

  Her mirrored vision pleaded. “You’re hurt and angry. If you would just hand over your hate to God and let Him carry it, you would have the peace of mind you so desperately seek. He suffers with you. Let Him comfort you.”

  Lee sighed with exasperation.

  “I know that’s what you believe, Grace, but I don’t. I can’t. We were betrayed. I have to find the traitor, and I can’t take my baby with me.”

  “I’ll look after her then, until you come for her.”

  “It won’t work. She needs roots and two parents who want her and will love her, like you and Erich. If you take her, we can’t stay in touch. It’s too risky. There are those obsessed with retribution, and you are bound by the Secrecy Act to hide what really happened.”

  “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  Lee didn’t want to deal with the nostalgia rising within her, but compassion prompted her. “You won’t,” she said softly. “You’ll have my baby. She can take the place of all the babies you’ll never have.”

  “Oh God!” moaned Grace. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me. I can’t take any more. It’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair?” asked a tall man coming between them. His rugged lean face bore slight resemblance to the golden SS boy Lee had first seen in Berlin. Concern puckered Erich’s wide brows and crinkled the corners of his arresting blue eyes. A handlebar mustache, newly grown in and quite red to harmonize with his dyed auburn hair, captured the air of a proud ex-Highlander rather than a man hiding his Germanic roots. He was dressed in the traditional black top hat and tails for the Epsom Derby race.

  “The war,” Lee answered him. “No war is fair.”

  Erich’s jaw tightened, his brow twitched. She sensed his nightmare was the same as hers. She waited. He said nothing, but his eyes focused on her, searching through her muteness to the things unsaid. He saw her hate. His pupils flinched, acknowledging her torment and what she had to do. His silent approval gave Lee courage.

  He bent over the bundle in his wife’s arms and crooked his little finger inside the curl of the baby’s chubby fist. She gripped it and gurgled. For a moment, intensely curious violet eyes stared up at him. “How golden her hair is!” he marveled, lightly stroking it.

  “I named her Kendra Alexandra Talbot,” Lee said.

  “Her second name is after my mother,” Grace explained to Erich.

  Lee, watching Erich pretend to play a tug of war with his fingers in the baby’s grasp, felt her eyes brim with unexpected tears.

  Grace touched her hand.

  “You are absolutely sure this is what you want.”

  Lee clenched her jaw and nodded.

  “Then this is God’s will. She will always be Kendra Alexandra to us too, Lee.”

  Erich glanced up and gently pulled his finger out of Kendra’s grip.

  “I can hear the band. The race will be starting soon. Let’s move up to the front and see what’s going on.”

  Below the grandstand, the dignitaries’ boxes overlooked the track. Morgan had reserved one allotted to VIPs for the reunion of Lee and Grace at Intrepid’s race in the Epsom Derby. Erich guided both women to their box seats.

  “Well, little one, you can’t go to sleep for your first horse race,” Grace whispered to the yawning bundle in her arms.

  Erich tweaked Kendra’s chubby cheeks. The baby rewarded him with another delightful smile.

  Lee moved slightly away, separating herself from the happy family, and anxiously scanned the crowds for some sight of Morgan. He was late, and that worried her.

  As they watched the royal procession coming down the track, Lee asked Grace, “Do you regret leaving Guild Oaks to King George?”

  “Do you mean do I miss it?”

  “That too.”

  “Always. At least, this way, nothing changes at Guild Oaks for Tanner, Millie and the orphanage. Whether I’m there or not, my parents’ legacy remains intact, and our horses can still breed and race under the king’s colors.”

  “ Their legacy would be less important to them than your happiness,” Lee assured Grace.

  “I know,” she agreed. “But I’ve found happiness with Erich. He’s my life now, and I love him deeply. I’m sorry I can’t say good-bye to Millie and Tanner, though. Since they already mourned for me when I was reported captured and presumed dead, it would be cruel to put them through it again.”

  “What about Intrepid?”

  “He was your horse, Lee. Not mine. What’s hardest for me is leaving Decency beh
ind. Daddy gave her to me when no one else believed in her. I will never have another mare like her,” she added with sadness.

  “Maybe not the same, but you’ve proved you have a gift for breeding horses. You and Erich will produce another champion line in Canada.”

  “If we can ever come to one mind on a breeding philosophy,” Grace laughed.

  A red-coated band of Welsh Guardsmen in great bearskin hats led the royal carriage with the king and queen and two princesses inside into the center circle of the arena. Strains of the martial band playing Men of Harlech and The Ash Grove stirred Lee.

  “They played the same music when Decency raced in the Breeder’s Cup.”

  Lee looked closely at Grace, noting the nostalgia in her tone, and realized attending the race was just as difficult for Grace as it was for her. Why are we doing this to ourselves?

  As the royal party stepped onto center stage, a cluster of dignitaries swarmed forward, engulfing the king, his elegant queen and their precious daughters in a wave of official greetings. The tide swept back, and the royal party settled into their seats.

  “Grace, would you mind terribly if I went over to the walking ring to watch Intrepid parade in front of the fans?”

  Lee’s question drew Grace’s attention away from the royal gathering.

  “That’s a splendid idea,” she said. “We’ll go with you.”

  Erich frowned.

  “No, we won’t, Grace. From what you’ve told me about this horse, your hats won’t fool him. He’ll know your smells. He could get excited, and that will bring attention to us. Lee, I suggest you stay here too.”

  Grace glanced at him and back at Lee. A silent message passed between the two women.

  “Sorry, Erich,” said Lee. “I don’t expect you to understand, but Intrepid will race better if he knows Grace and I are here.”

  Erich firmly objected. “We promised Morgan we would stay as inconspicuous as possible. You’re asking us to break his orders.”

  His warning tone told Lee Morgan had included Erich in his plan to bait Quinn.

  “What orders? I don’t see Saunders here,” she countered. “Do you see him?”

  Her snippy remark was meant to tell Erich how worried she was about Morgan, but before he could respond, she went on.

  “When Grace’s Decency foaled Intrepid, I was there. Grace let me name him. He’s the last connection I have to the only family I’ve ever known. I at least have to see him. Right, Grace?”

  Grace nodded in agreement. “Let her go, Erich.”

  He groaned. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “For me.”

  He looked into his wife’s resolute eyes and sighed. “I surrender. Go, Lee, but be careful,” he warned.

  “Count on it,” she promised.

  As she was about to melt into the crowd outside their VIP box, she turned back to Grace, “I’ll tell Intrepid you’re watching him too.”

  If Lee hadn’t spotted Tanner leading Intrepid out of the paddock to the walking ring, where the horses paraded in front of the fans before they were led to the starting gate, she wouldn’t have recognized the horse. He was one of four blood bays racing in the Derby, and they all looked exceedingly handsome.

  “Intrepid,” she called softly.

  The bay’s ears perked straight up. He pressed his whole weight against Tanner, forcing him to turn. The jockey quickly tightened his grip on the reins, and Intrepid stiffened his body ready to rear. Tanner searched the faces lining the rail, looking for the voice he and Intrepid knew.

  “Lee? Lee Talbot? Do I hear your voice?”

  The horse trembled with excitement beside him.

  Lee waved.

  Tanner finally recognized her. “Well, come here, lassie, and give me a hug.”

  She rushed into his arms.

  He rocked her in a bear hold and almost knocked her hat off.

  “I didn’t know whether I would ever see you again. Millie and I miss Grace terribly.”

  Lee nodded. “I know. How have you both been keeping?”

  “Oh, we’re fine. The children and the horses don’t give us a chance to get old.”

  He pulled away and looked at her intently.

  “Big hat. You hiding from someone, lassie.”

  “It’s the fashion.”

  “Aye. And I’m King George. No matter. Can you go back with us to Guild Oaks after the race?”

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got another assignment.”

  “Well then, you’d better calm this colt down, or we can kiss the race good-bye.”

  “That would never do,” she laughed. “Do you remember me, big fella?” she asked Intrepid when Tanner handed her the horse’s lead.

  The magnificent thoroughbred nuzzled her as she petted the velvet softness of his nose. He playfully tried to grab her sleeve.

  Lee laughed. “You rascal! You do remember.” She patted his neck. “You must behave … for Grace and me.”

  His finely cut ears twitched listening to her.

  “Yes,” she pulled his head down to whisper in his ear so Tanner wouldn’t hear her. “Grace’s here too. We’re both here to watch you race. You must win, Intrepid. Do you hear me? You must win, just like your Mom did.”

  The bay’s luminous brown eyes seemed to soak Lee up. She rested her face against his nose in complete trust and stroked the sides of his sleek head. His muscles rippled and melted as her scent filled his flared nostrils. They stood quietly clasped, letting the past blend with the present. When Lee stepped back, Intrepid was so settled down, he seemed almost sedated. He bowed his head inviting her to rub the diamond plane on his high forehead between his brows.

  She stroked the spot in a gentle circular motion.

  “We love you, Intrepid. Race your best for us. Now go with Tanner and meet your fans.”

  She stood back, and the beautiful bay raised his head. His expressive eyes fixed on her. She sensed he understood it was good-bye.

  “Good luck, you guys.”

  She handed the lead back to Tanner.

  “You take care of yourself, Lee, and any time you want to visit us, you know you’re always welcome.”

  “I know. Give my love to Millie.”

  “I will.”

  Tanner lightly yanked the lead to turn the horse around. Intrepid followed him, but his tail plumed and swished, missing Lee, but brushed the man who had silently inched up beside her. The brisk lashing toppled the man’s hat. He bent down to pick it up.

  “I think the Epsom winner just rapped you,” Lee chuckled.

  “Intrepid better win because I wagered a fortune on him.”

  The man’s voice froze her heart.

  Quinn adjusted his top hat and faced Lee.

  “I took a chance you would come to the race. Is Grace here too?”

  “Yes.” Lee saw no point in lying.

  His eyes drifted over her face. “You look marvelous.”

  “I was lucky. The cosmetic surgery worked.”

  “And your baby?”

  “I don’t know. I gave her up for adoption.”

  She told part lie, part truth.

  Quinn looked genuinely pained.

  “Did you have to do that? I was hoping you had overcome your bitterness.”

  His eyes softened. “I do love you, Lee. I always have. Come to Ulster with me.”

  Lee steeled the fury, which gripped her, but couldn’t quite mask the coldness from her reply. “It won’t work. I don’t love you.”

  “I see. You’re more loyal to Rolf in death than you were in life.”

  “He loved me with no conditions attached. I don’t expect to find that again.”

  “It was the war, Lee. I couldn’t let myself be distracted from my mission. I had no conditions on your love either. You must know that.”

  She didn’t trust herself to answer. Once she would have given her life to hear those words of love from Quinn. Remembering how she felt when she first met him, how she had trusted him, arou
sed conflicted feelings. A part of her wanted to give in and throw her arms around him. Morgan had to be wrong. Quinn couldn’t betray them or do anything to hurt her.

  Beside her, Quinn stood with his hands in his pockets, watching Tanner hand over Intrepid to his jockey as horse and rider joined the parade to the starting gate.

  “You never drew Intrepid. I’ve often wondered why.”

  Her delusion spun to a stop. “How would you know what I’ve drawn?” she asked.

  Quinn’s face froze. His eyes stared at her.

  “Only someone who has been through my private files would know what sketches I’ve done,” she pressed. “You stole my drawing of Grace, didn’t you, Quinn? You’re the traitor. It was never Sir Fletcher, was it?”

  Quinn stiffened with the wariness of a trapped animal.

  “Take your hands out of your pockets, Quinn … slowly, one at a time,” commanded Morgan, who unexpectedly appeared to Lee’s right. He was positioned so one bullet from his gun would bore a hole in the center of Quinn’s forehead. He watched Quinn clear his hands.

  “Now walk up to me and turn around,” he commanded.

  Quinn shambled, deliberately mocking his instructions. He seemed to turn in a lazy circle with his back to Morgan.

  “Don’t even think about breaking away,” Morgan warned him. “You’re a dead man if you try.”

  Morgan frisked him for a weapon and pulled out a Liberator .45 from a holster slung under Quinn’s jacket.

  “An assassinator’s favorite firearm,” he observed, pocketing it.

  “Why, Quinn? How could you betray us?”

  She noticed Quinn’s jaw tense.

  “I had my orders.”

  She stared at him. Quinn’s answer threw her back to Guernica. That was his answer then. And she recalled his reaction to making a mistake: A spy can’t afford to be human. I won’t make that mistake again. It was a cold, uncompromising thing to say at the time. She had wondered why he was so hard on himself, but it may have been the only honest moment they shared. Realizing this released the frustration years of dealing with his aloofness had bottled up, and fury took command.

  “Orders,” she repeated through clenched teeth. “To betray everyone who trusted you, loved you, died for you. For what? So Stalin can develop an atomic bomb. Do you understand what you’ve done? Do you?” she shrilled.