“Our half brother, yes. Apparently you do listen on occasion.”
“But he’s a lord.”
“The honorific makes him no more special than you or I in the eyes of the law. And what of it, in any event? It does not make him more or less of a man.” Just as Gerard would not be if he succeeded in his quest.
He ran a tired hand through his hair. He wanted to see Jane, to lie in her arms and feel her pulse against him. He wanted her to say she loved him again, but this time to say she was his, title or not, England or not. But those were foolish thoughts and there was work to be done.
Marcus, Lord Templeton, chose to spend the majority of his time at his country estate, where he had his soap factory and where he doted on his wife and daughter. Gerard had never visited his half brother at the man’s home. The last time he had seen him had been in Firenze nearly half a year earlier. Theirs was an uneasy relationship that veered from friendship to…to something indefinable by anything other than the bond of blood.
Gerard did not believe Marcus had sway with anyone of import. His brother, despite his title and his role as heir to the vast Landsdowne fortune, was essentially a pawn in the schemes of others, as apparently was Gerard. But there were other ways in which Marcus might be useful. Such as Thomas, who needed a stable home, one that Gerard could not provide until this matter was completed.
They were expected, as Gerard had written to Marcus with the intention of bringing Thomas to stay with him for a brief while until other accommodations could be found. Now that need was more urgent. But the family reunion was awkward at best. Thomas stood stiffly at Gerard’s side as he was introduced to Lord Templeton, then Lady Templeton, and their daughter Leona. The whole thing was made only less awkward when Leona asked if Thomas wanted to see her dog, Puffin. Thomas surprisingly accepted his role as playmate and agreed.
Lady Templeton lingered a moment more before excusing herself. Alone in the sitting room, Gerard ran a heavy hand through his hair and girded himself.
“I need your advice.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “My advice? If I recall correctly, you were furious with me for saving the life of your quarry.”
“You merely assured his death.”
Marcus paled. “What do you do? What does our grandfather ask of you?”
“Let us walk in the garden.” Gerard wanted to stand in the sunshine even though the day was cold. He wanted no shadows or hidden ears about as he told fragments of this story. His story. The one he had come to understand better as he shaped it for Jane.
The garden directly to the rear of the house was a neatly laid out series of hedges, sandy paths, and grass. The organized beauty made it easier to construct his thoughts.
“A man reaches a certain age, a certain place in life, and he reflects on what has passed thus far.”
Marcus nodded.
“Thomas is young. I could not save everyone, but Thomas still has a chance.”
Gerard felt the cool distance between them, the fine line between legitimacy and bastardy. If Marcus had ever been interested in knowing more about his half siblings, he had never pursued that inclination. He had had the stability of a known lineage, of the approbation of society. An easy life. Whereas Gerard had… In many ways Gerard had had a better life than any of his other illegitimate siblings. Yes, Marie had found contentment, but that was luck.
“Our grandfather’s interest in me has been both a blessing and a curse.” Gerard told an abridged version of his training and his work for Landsdowne. “Choosing to do such work for others? A man wishes to be the master of his own destiny, not his grandfather’s puppet.”
Marcus’s lips thinned and he nodded in acknowledgment. Yes, Gerard’s half brother would understand this. He had been so under Landsdowne’s thumb that he had nearly lost his chance for happiness with the woman he loved.
Gerard ran a hand over his face. He had ridiculed Marcus privately, but now, now he was in a situation all too similar, struggling to find a way to be with the woman he loved, despite his grandfather’s machinations. Landsdowne was not responsible for Gerard’s illegitimacy, but he had certainly tried to shape Gerard’s life to fit his own needs. Ruthlessly.
If their grandfather would not help him, then Gerard would use the training he had been given to help himself, the same way he had chosen to work for others.
“Over the years, I’ve amassed information that I have no doubt would be of use to England in her negotiations.” All of it had been discovered in the course of his work, but did not compromise that work, was not directly related. He would not have to break his own code of secrecy and trust. “Men have been gifted nobility for less.”
“You want a title,” Marcus said flatly.
“I want a woman, and a title will get me the woman I want.”
“Ah.” Marcus laughed and the sound was slightly harsh. “I see. Who is this woman that you would trade your life of independence for servitude to the crown?”
Servitude. That word again. No less than the truth. “Lady Jane Langley.”
Silence met his proclamation, and then laughter.
“You do not aim low, do you? I would never in all my life have guessed, but I do see now why you are so desperate to gain yourself a title.”
Desperate. Another word that unsettled Gerard. He detested feeling in any way inferior and for the great majority of his thirty-four years he had not once. Until faced with a desire that his mere birth had made impossible from the outset. But Gerard was not inferior and he had always made the impossible possible. It was why his services had been in such demand, why he had amassed a fortune, why he— He broke off his thoughts, disgusted with the weakness of his need to bolster himself in any way.
“Who should I see?”
Marcus shook his head. “All right, listen. Go to Horse Guards,” he said. “There is a man there, Anche, who oversees the gathering of intelligence. If anyone can assist you in this endeavor, it will be him. I shall write you a letter of introduction. I know him well enough for that.”
It was more than Gerard had expected. “You don’t worry the family name will be dragged through the mud through association with me?”
“Yes and no,” Marcus said. “I am angry enough with our grandfather to want him to suffer the consequences of his meddling in the affairs of others.”
Gerard nodded. He had hoped for that. “Thank you. The other matter…Thomas.”
“You wish me to take him in.”
“Temporarily, until I have this matter settled and can provide something more for him.”
Marcus shook his head again. “How strange this life is.”
“He’s just a boy. His life relatively easy despite his loss. I wish him be spared.”
“Save him, save us all?”
Gerard laughed at the succinct mocking statement. But there was truth in there. “Something like that.”
But Thomas would not be left and would not be reasoned with, and although Gerard knew it would be better for the boy, he relented.
“I am sorry, you know,” Marcus said, pulling Gerard aside before he mounted his horse. “That our grandfather…that your life has been what it was. I did not know it was not your choice.”
Gerard laughed again but this time it was without mirth. The horse snorted, too, as if it knew how ridiculous the sentiment was. Knew its rider was heartless to the core. “Don’t fool yourself, brother. A better man than I would have made different choices, would not have followed where others led. I had a choice. We all do.”
The following day Gerard called upon Mr. Anche, a slight, unprepossessing man with narrow eyes that Gerard understood instantly. This was a man well versed in intrigue.
It was strange to be standing there, dressed as any other well-to-do gentleman in London, using the name he most considered his own, revealing a considerable portion of his history, if not the specific details of the work he had done.
“I am fascinated, Mr. Badeau, by your background. I always wonder
ed how that wily Landsdowne managed to know of events before my own men. If you were his secret weapon, then you are a useful man indeed.” Gerard and a whole fleet of informants. “We’ll find a place for you,” Anche said.
Gerard frowned. “I’m not a spy.”
“Reconnaissance, if you prefer.”
As if the word used made any difference. “I don’t work for any country. I am not looking for a position.”
“Hmm.” Anche picked up the letter of introduction from Marcus again, put it down. “Then what do you want?”
Everything inside Gerard buzzed with anticipation. This was his best, his only chance, perhaps, to gain what he desired.
“My knowledge for a title.”
Anche laughed. “You are a bold man to walk in here and offer such a trade. French by birth, are you not? I am certain we can find crimes against England that you have committed.”
“I very much doubt that,” Gerard said with a smile. “And I assure you, I do have knowledge that Lord Castlereagh would find quite useful.”
Anche waved his hand dismissively. “We are up to our eyeballs in information, Mr. Badeau. Most of it is irrelevant.”
“There have been fifty-seven plots to rescue Napoleon from Elba. It is only a matter of time before one of these come to fruition.”
“That is hardly news.”
Gerard raised an eyebrow.
“Seventeen have been documented.”
“My point, Mr. Anche.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Speak with Lord Landsdowne. I know he does not wish his machinations to be known by all, but I am certain he would be forthcoming if questioned. He and his ‘Group of Eight.’”
“That pretentious coterie? A gentleman’s club,” Anche scoffed.
“This is my gift to you, free of charge, Mr. Anche,” Gerard said. “Never take anything at face value.”
“The king grants titles, Mr. Badeau.”
“Yes, I understand. For services to the crown.”
“Yes. I must consult with others but I need your word. I will have all the information you possess.”
“That I am free to share, which is extensive.”
“What is your direction? I will inform you at a later date.”
Gerard gave the Billingsley. He was finished with a life of disguises. Giving up these secrets would be part of that.
He stepped out of the office, down the hallway, his boots echoing on the wooden floor, down the stairs and across the courtyard with its stench of hay, horse and exertion. He crossed St. James Park and then stopped in the center of it and looked around at a small park ringed with gray buildings, all shrouded by the damp mist.
He had one more stop, to see his solicitor. Regardless of the outcome of the meeting with Anche, he would need a home. The Billingsley was no place for a rebellious youth like Thomas.
Chapter Fifteen
The journey back to England was nothing like the one to Vienna. It passed uneventfully, her maid and Bohm by Jane’s side at all times. Silvie, too, as her cousin decided to serve as companion and visit the country that years of war had made impossible to access. The only dramatic moments were those in Jane’s head as she relived again and again the past six weeks as the couch jarred across the hard earth. She had the strong sense that she was traveling from her father to Gerard, not merely in the geographical sense.
“Jane,” Silvie said one night as they dined in yet another inn’s private dining room. Sometimes Bohm dined with them, but often, like tonight, he chose to give them privacy, and to dine in the main hall. “This melancholia is not simply due to the threat to your life. I know these symptoms. Love is a very painful affliction.”
“Love itself is quite pleasant and uplifting,” Jane said, hesitating. She wasn’t certain how much she could tell her cousin, but she needed to work through her conflicted thoughts and perhaps Silvie would offer a perspective Jane lacked. “It is the fact that the man himself is not entirely suitable. I told him it is impossible, but I am no longer certain that decision is the wisest.”
“How unsuitable is he?”
“Very. He is the illegitimate grandson of the Earl of Landsdowne.” She saw no reason to hide that bit of information. After all, Gerard Badeau was the man who wooed her, who had been introduced to her father.
“I see. The illegitimate son of a royal duke, a prince or a king would be acceptable if he were in favor with his father and if he possessed some influence and wealth of his own. Your English society is so rigid. Unless there are extenuating circumstances you have not yet revealed, this situation is problematic.”
Somehow Jane had hoped Silvie would say something more encouraging. Yet, her cousin gave exactly the response Jane most admired: the truth.
“When I was nineteen, the summer before I married, I fell in love.”
“This does not sound like a story about falling in love with the prince.”
Silvie laughed. “And so it is not. I fell in love with a rank and file soldier. Nothing to distinguish him from any other but that he was wild and had traveled the world, and I was impetuous and had not. I wanted his experience and I fell in love with him for it. But when he asked me to run away with him…I said no. Two months later, I was engaged to Von Wolfstein.”
“You make it seem as if you were not truly in love with him.”
“I ridicule myself to make the loss easier. My life with him would have been harder, grueling even. I would have been exiled from everyone I knew and cared for. But he made me feel alive and at the time I believed myself deeply in love. The only thing that makes me feel alive now is traveling.”
“You do not love your husband.” Something about that made Jane’s chest twinge. Only a handful of months ago she would have thought nothing of a loveless marriage, especially one that had made Silvie a princess with the freedom and resources to enjoy life as she wished. Now, it all seemed so very sad, tragic almost.
Silvie sighed. “I do not know him. We have shared a bed, a dining table, the carriage en route to Vienna, and yet…he has his mistress and his duty to the country. I chose him but I resent him.”
“So I could choose Gerard and a life… He is not impoverished but I very much doubt we would be invited or accepted to the society I currently frequent. Or, I can keep my friends and acquaintances, the respect of society and either live alone forever, or choose a man who is a stranger to marry, who will always be a stranger. And if I never marry, there are many who will pity me for that choice as well.”
“Or you might meet another man with whom you fall in love who conveniently happens to be nobility.”
“Or that,” Jane said, but it didn’t feel very likely, especially now that she had experienced everything she had. What other man would ever understand? Would ever embrace all the disparate facets of her character?
“Are you certain you love him? How did you meet?”
Jane’s mind whirled. So many questions, so many things to consider. She chose the easiest question first and opted for some part of the truth.
“On the road to Vienna,” Jane said slowly. “He…helped me when I was injured.”
“I thought an old woman took you in,” Silvie said archly.
“Eventually.” Jane met Silvie’s gaze with a rueful smile. “What was I to say? I spent days in a man’s company when I was bedridden and unable to move?”
Silvie laughed. “I suppose being injured put a bit of a damper on the affair.”
“At least until Vienna.”
“My mousey, studious little cousin. Always so proper and papa’s little girl. I am shocked, my dear, to hear of your indecent liaison!”
“Ha.” Jane laughed too. It was so good to be able to share even this small part of all the recent confusing events. To admit to caring for Gerard. To admit to his existence. And Silvie, of all people, understood.
Their friendship blossomed after that night and Jane was grateful for her cousin’s company. It kept her mind off the intrigues and dan
gers of Vienna, the betrayal of her father, the fact that Gerard had likely discovered already that his grandfather would be of no assistance. But Silvie had asked if Jane was certain she loved Gerard, and that question she did consider, over and over again.
She had resisted admitting to love until that last night in Vienna, despite a heart that pulled toward Gerard like a lodestone seeking true north. She did love him. Did the fact that she thought love not enough make that love any less real? Any less true?
It had been so easy to place other desires above love before she had understood the emotion, but it was no longer so. Perhaps, back in London, society would once again hold the same interest it previously had. The politics of Vienna should have held her interest. Instead, she had turned into a lovestruck and lovesick ninny, the likes of whom should only be found in gothic novels. Not that Jane had read any of those. Perhaps she ought to start and complete her transformation. And then run away with Gerard when he failed to rise above the stain of his illegitimate birth.
As the boat pulled up to dock in the early hours of the morning, the city that was so dear and known to her looked unchanged, made her feel almost unchanged, as if everything from the day she boarded a carriage for the channel and the day she stepped off a boat in the Thames had been a dream. But the man at her left, the guard Gerard had hired for her protection, was proof that it was not.
She glanced at Bohm out of the corner of her eyes. Their gazes caught for an instant and he nodded almost imperceptibly, letting her know she was protected. She wanted to see Gerard. She was furious with him. Furious and…eager. She’d admit that to herself.
After the carriage deposited them safely at the Langley townhouse, she took Bohm aside. She didn’t want to wait for Gerard to come to her. “Will you find him?” she asked.
Bohm nodded and she had utter confidence in that short gesture. If only she had confidence in her own desires.
Gerard Badeau called on her that morning. Entering through the front door of the Langley townhouse, announced into the parlor by the footman. The knocker had only just been put back on the door. The servants, though they had received advance notice to expect them any day, were still adjusting to having Jane and Silvie there. But he was here. In London. In her house. Dressed fashionably and precisely, as if he were a man who cared about such things.
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