Agent of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  “Stop fidgeting,” Grandmama said in a low voice, her lips barely moving.

  “It’s a boring play.”

  “Then at least show some respect for the traditions of the theater.”

  “I can tell you’re bored too. You’re twiddling your thumbs.”

  Grandmama’s hands stilled. “I am not. And this isn’t about me.”

  The curtains fell, the house lights went up, and a scattering of applause went up from the audience. Telaine clapped absently, her eyes scanning the crowd. She was usually thronged with visitors whenever she went to the Waxwold Theater. Hopefully Grandmama’s presence would dissuade them tonight. She wasn’t just bored, she was edgy, restless, and she said, “Let’s go.”

  “I can’t. Clarence is here and it would hurt his feelings if I left at intermission.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Telaine shoved her chair back farther.

  Grandmama eyed her closely. “If you’re going to back all the way to the door,” she said, “you should move the other chair out of the way.”

  “I don’t like being watched.”

  “Telaine, is something wrong? You’re usually so eager to be off to see your friends.”

  Telaine tried to summon up an airy laugh, but it seemed so much like work she couldn’t bring herself to do more than smile. “Oh, of course! I’m just tired of being asked to tell the same story over and over again. Wouldn’t you be?”

  “I suppose.” Grandmama stood and shook out her silk skirt, figured all over with white roses. “I’m going to use the facilities.”

  When she was gone, Telaine slumped in her seat. It was harder every day to play the part of the Princess, laughing and flirting as if her whole life weren’t shattered beyond recognition. Grandmama knew something was wrong—Alison North was too observant not to recognize a change in her oldest granddaughter—but she was too polite to pry, and Telaine didn’t feel like enlightening her.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Am I interrupting anything?” Edgar Hussey said, smiling his arch smile. A knot of tension tightened at the base of her neck. Anyone but Hussey.

  “Of course not!” she said with a smile, and allowed him to kiss her hand. “How lovely to see you. You can see I’m quite alone.”

  “Well, you would be, wouldn’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hussey lowered his voice. “The rumors, of course. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard them.”

  The knot drew tighter. “You know I never listen to rumors, Mister Hussey.”

  “Well, you should listen to this one, because it’s about you.”

  Of course. This was inevitable. She let her eyes go wide. “About me?”

  “That you’re an agent of the Crown, my dear.”

  She held her astonished face for a second longer, then forced herself to burst into laughter. “Why, Mister Hussey, how absurd! Me, an agent of the Crown? Do I look like a spy to you?”

  “If you were a good agent, you wouldn’t look like one, would you?”

  “That’s ridiculous. Who’s spreading these rumors?”

  Hussey shrugged. “who knows how these things get started? You probably should do something about them, though.”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea how to combat such a thing. You know what rumors are like. But I can’t bear to think of my friends believing it.”

  “You can imagine why they might be so distressed. You might have been spying on them, after all. Fortunately for me, i have no secrets worth ferreting out.”

  As if his secrets mattered. “I depend on you to counter these rumors wherever you hear them, Mister Hussey,” she said, lowering her lashes and looking up at him through them. “I know I won’t be able to do it alone.”

  “you can count on me to defend your honor,” Hussey said. “Now, do you—”

  The door opened. “I beg your pardon,” Grandmama said coldly. “I did not realize you had company, Telaine.” Grandmama wasn’t any fonder of Hussey than Telaine was, and Telaine envied her freedom to express that dislike. She withdrew her hand from Hussey’s and simpered at him.

  “I was just leaving, milady Consort,” Hussey said, bowing. “Until later, your Highness.”

  When the door closed behind him, Grandmama said, “You should have given him a solid push out of this box and see if he comes nosing around you again.”

  “Grandmama!”

  “I despise men like him. Your grandfather had a friend—but that’s an old story, and not one you’ll care about.” Grandmama settled herself into her seat. “And I apologize for meddling in your business.”

  “No, I don’t mind. I just—” She couldn’t exactly say I need him to protect my identity.

  Grandmama leaned forward and waved to an acquaintance below. “I understand you’re an agent of the Crown,” she said.

  “I am not,” Telaine said automatically, then tried to cover her mistake with an airy laugh. “That’s just what everyone’s saying. I can’t believe how foolish people are.”

  “They are.” Grandmama was looking at her, her eyes narrowed. “Of course it’s untrue.”

  “Do I look like a spy?” Telaine said with another laugh.

  “I don’t know what spies look like.”

  The lights went down, sparing Telaine another response. She realized she’d clasped her hands tightly in her lap, so tightly she couldn’t feel her fingers, and made herself relax. You should tell her, she thought, she’s already guessed, but the idea made her whole body feel as numb as her hands.

  She had to wait for Uncle to return from the front. Let him make the decision. In time, people would forget the rumors if she didn’t try to refute them. Unfortunately, since these rumors had truth behind them, it was possible those truths would simply reinforce the rumors until they reached a point where the two became one. But there was nothing she could do about it except wait, and hope her uncle had a solution to this problem as well.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Telaine reclined on the overstuffed pink sofa in her sitting room, too tired from a long day of socializing to remember how much she hated the room. She had come far too close to breaking character today, when one of the Princess’s acquaintances had begun talking about the war as if he knew anything about it, criticizing the defenders of Thorsten Keep for failing to maintain the fort’s defenses and not having a unified strategy of attack, whatever that meant. She’d had to leave the room and walk rapidly around the garden to regain her calm. Then she’d left as gracefully as possible and come back to the palace. It was a mark of how miserable she was that this room was a pleasant escape.

  Someone knocked on her door. “Your Highness? The King requests your presence in his study at your earliest convenience.”

  Telaine leaped from the sofa and ran, somewhat awkwardly thanks to her skirt, to the door. “Right now,” she said to the astonished messenger when she opened the door in his face.

  When she entered her uncle’s study, he was standing facing the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. He said, “If I had known how this would turn out, I still would have sent you.”

  Tears came to her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I did everything wrong, it all nearly fell apart because I was so slow—”

  Her uncle turned and embraced her. “None of that.” He released her, looking into her eyes and, by his expression, not liking what he saw there. He drew up two chairs before the fire and bade her sit. “I know this will be a long story, and I don’t think you should have to stand for all of it,” he said. “I had some of it from Major Anselm’s report, enough to know about your very public denunciation of the Baron, and more of it from the agent who received your telecode about the invasion. I want to hear it all from you, in order, nothing omitted.”

  Telaine sat and stared at her hands, trying to organize her thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell me who Aunt Weaver was?” she demanded.

  Uncle Jeffrey’s face went still. “So you know.”

  “I guessed.
It was a tremendous shock.”

  “I thought, if I told you, it would be a distraction. Mistress Weaver’s secret isn’t a trivial one for this family. She warned me you were likely to figure it out, but it was a chance I had to take. And I suppose on some level I might have hoped you’d figure it out. I know it’s necessary, but I hate that she’s so isolated from her family.”

  “She was helpful. I wish I’d taken more of her advice.” Telaine took in a deep breath and let it out, slowly. “After I arrived in Steepridge, it took me a few days to get the Baron’s attention…”

  Despite his instructions, she did not tell him everything. She glossed over how she’d become part of Longbourne. She said nothing about Ben or her weird relationship with Morgan or rescuing Sarah. Those things were private, and painful to recall. Leaving all that out made a much shorter story. When she reached the end, having described her race to Fort Canden and the garrison’s moving out, she fell silent. It was his turn to ask questions.

  “You had no choice but to reveal your identity,” he said.

  “I didn’t think so. It was either that or risk losing precious time or having the Baron weasel his way out of his guilt.”

  “I agree. That wasn’t a criticism. You were incredibly brave.”

  “No, just incredibly desperate.” The memory of Ben’s final words to her burned in her heart. She would give anything to have had another option.

  “And you think you didn’t act quickly enough on the news about the invasion.”

  “Every time I review my actions, I realize I acted as quickly as possible, and it was just bad luck the storm came in when it did. But if I’d gotten that message out before—”

  “You’re not thinking about this the right way. You didn’t learn about the earth mover until after the pass was closed, so if you’d made it down the mountain before the storm, we would have known about the invasion plans but assumed we had plenty of time to stop them. ‘Ifs’ can go both ways, you know.”

  Her spirits lifted. “You’re right, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “You didn’t say you’d killed a man.”

  She hadn’t expected that to come up. “I—he was going to kill someone, and I had to stop him.”

  “I was unaware you knew how to throw knives.”

  “I picked up the skill while I was in Longbourne.” Did every memory of Longbourne have a memory of Ben attached to it?

  “Fortunate for the person you saved. Are you all right? It’s no small thing, taking a life, no matter how despicable or vicious that life might be.”

  “I…sometimes dream about my last sight of him, with the knife sticking out of his eye socket. But I feel at peace with my actions. I saved a good man’s life.”

  “A friend of yours.”

  “He was. I don’t think the good people of Longbourne like me much right now. They believe—” she swallowed—“believe I pretended to be their friend so the Baron wouldn’t suspect me.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “I…” What was the truth, and what were the lies? “I liked them. Genuinely liked them. Some of them became my close friends, real friends. It’s true I wouldn’t have been there if not for the mission, but the only one I manipulated was Baron Steepridge. And speaking of him, please tell me the Ruskalder didn’t kill him? I want more than anything to see his execution.”

  “The Baron is on his way here, in shackles. There will be a trial. And you—” the King cleared his throat—“you will be the chief witness against him.”

  Telaine’s mouth dropped open. “But—there’ll be no containing the rumors, then! Everyone will know what I am, what I have been. Nine years of espionage…how many people will want my head?”

  “Not as many as will want mine,” the King said grimly.

  “There has to be an alternative,” Telaine insisted. She hated the Princess, wanted nothing more than to be free of her, but to do so in such a public way…it would truly be the end of her life.

  “Believe me, Telaine, I have gone over the problem with my advisors, looking for some other solution. Harroden will testify, and we can link Steepridge to the smuggling, but your testimony as agent of the Crown ties it all together. This is the only way we can sentence and execute Steepridge.”

  “But…those letters he sent to Harroden, and the ones hidden in his study! There must be others between him and the Ruskald King!”

  The King shook his head. “He never put anything between himself and the Ruskalder in writing. He’s going to claim simple incompetence about the fort and deny the other charges of treason. The only certain thing we have him on is his attempt to murder you, and attempted murder is not a capital crime.” He smiled wryly. “Now, if he’d succeeded…”

  “I almost wish he had,” she said under her breath.

  The King straightened and stared at her. “You don’t believe that,” he said.

  Telaine shook her head. Uncle Jeffrey lifted her chin so she had to meet his gaze. “You came out of this much more wounded than I believed,” he said. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

  Telaine shook her head again. “Maybe someday, Uncle.”

  “I’m here when you’re ready. Or maybe you should tell Julia. You haven’t told her the truth yet?”

  “I was afraid to. I wanted your advice. Shouldn’t the family know now rather than learn about it at the trial?”

  “Yes, they should. I’ll break it to Imogen. You can tell Julia. Then Imo can decide how to tell the rest. If it has to come out, I’d like it to be on our terms, through your testimony in court.” He leaned back and tapped his long fingers on his jawline. “I am sorry I can’t spare you testifying. It will not be easy. And you can already guess what will happen after that. But I can promise you that with time, this will fade. Some other scandal will take its place. Is there anything I can do for you? You realize we are all very much in your debt.”

  Telaine began to shake her head a third time, then said, “Could you get me the casualty list from Thorsten Pass? The…the townspeople? I would like to know whom to mourn.” Is his name on it?

  Uncle Jeffrey covered her hand with his. “Of course.”

  ***

  Like the east wing drawing room, Julia’s sitting room smelled of cinnamon and roses. The smell…it was like finally coming home. Telaine reclined on Julia’s sofa and rubbed the lavender velvet, smoothing down the nap. It was like petting a kitten. Maybe she needed a kitten. They couldn’t be that hard to care for, could they?

  “I’m actually relieved to learn you aren’t as scatterbrained and—forgive me—shallow as you sometimes seem,” Julia said. “I could never understand how you could be so sensible at home and then be so foolish in public. What I also don’t understand is why you couldn’t tell me the truth. I keep all your secrets.”

  Telaine looked up from where she’d been watching the baby chew on her watch. Julia had named her Emma Telaine, something that made Telaine go misty-eyed whenever she thought about it. “I couldn’t tell anyone,” she said. “We rarely even share that knowledge with other agents. It’s the first rule, the unbreakable rule.” Except that I broke it, and look what it got me. “It’s—you know the saying, how two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead?”

  “No, I’m happy to say I’ve never heard that somewhat gruesome saying.”

  “Every person who knows you’re an agent is one more person who might give you away. Even accidentally. Even if they swear they never, ever would. It’s become something of a superstition, with agents. It would have been wonderful to tell you, but I simply wasn’t allowed.”

  “Even so, I’ll be Queen someday, and I don’t understand how Father could justify not telling me about something I’ll have to administer eventually. Suppose he’d gone to war and been killed?” Julia ate a cream puff and tossed another one at Telaine’s head. She caught it without thinking. Cream puffs were one of the things she’d missed, along with her family and full-sized baths.

  “
But it sounded as if the battle on the northwestern front, the Ruskalder king’s overt attack, wasn’t. Did the Army actually come to blows with the Ruskalder?” Telaine said.

  Julia grinned. “After what happened at Thorsten Pass, Father squeezed some unilateral peace concessions out of the King of Ruskald before our armies had time to clash. Their failed backdoor invasion left us in an excellent position, strategy-wise, because Jannik had committed so many of his resources to it. Including,” she said, dropping her voice dramatically, “his eldest nephew, who is his heir. The Thorsten defenders captured him and we’ll be exchanging him for, I don’t know, everything Ruskald has plus their underwear.”

  Telaine laughed. “I’m glad it was successful.”

  “I think so. Father thinks we may have, in his charming phrase, ‘neutered’ their ability to come to war against us for the foreseeable future.” Julia reached over and picked up her baby, then commenced to bouncing her on her knees and making funny faces. Emma Telaine giggled and pulled her mother’s hair.

  “Julia, you are positively maternal.”

  “I know. Isn’t it wonderful? Motherhood suits me.”

  Telaine hesitated, then said, “I read about your divorce.” She’d avoided the subject when she’d returned, not sure how to bring it up, but now that they were exchanging confidences, it felt like the right time.

  Julia paused in the act of bouncing Emma Telaine. “Did you read about Lucas’s accident? Wagering he could jump three fences in a row while drunk? Broke his neck over the second one. Killed the horse too.” Her voice was emotionless.

  “Julia, I—”

  “Telaine, whatever you may think, it was his own fault and nothing to do with Father or anyone else. I don’t—I loved him, I did, but after the divorce I realized how much more my own woman I am. I don’t miss him. I’m not even sorry Emma Telaine will grow up without knowing him. It’s a pity she won’t have a father, but she has a family. She even has you.” She cooed and bounced the baby again.