She glanced at him. “Do they not believe you?”
“That’s the gist of it. Poppins filed statements against Redley at the very onset, so Redley’s silence and disappearance is highly suspicious. They need Redley to come forward and explain his side, though Castlereagh hinted it might not be enough. Redley’s mental stability was brought into question.”
“He really is a remarkable chess player, predicting this as he has.” Vivian looked down at the papers again. She’d gone through all the pages of notations as thoroughly as he had, but she kept coming back to the two in her hands.
It was a series of letters and numbers and some elaborate drawing of something that resembled the round shell of a cannon. But the idea of Poppins and Martin shooting a cannon in the middle of London was laughable.
“I don’t think it’s a cannon.” She answered his thoughts as if he’d spoken them aloud. “These look like chemical compounds.” She pointed to the letters and numbers, but it might as well have been Greek to him.
“I don’t know anything about chemistry. It could be another code.”
She shook her head. “I think Redley meant for it to appear as such. I don’t know anything about chemistry either, but this series of letter number combinations looks very familiar.”
Luke sighed. “Well, then we’d best be off.” He tapped his knuckles on the roof of the carriage and gave Quan the address.
“Where we are going?” she asked.
“To see a man about a chemist.”
* * *
The Right Honorable Viscount Halcourt was rather displeased to see Luke and Vivian on his doorstep for the second time in as many weeks, though this time it was his doorstep in London and not in Bath.
He frowned at Vivian’s appearance but was not overtly rude, per se. Just dismissive.
“Have you come about my stock of racing horses?”
“I know all about your spy business,” Vivian replied, brightly.
Halcourt gave her no visible response, but Luke’s mouth quirked up at her impertinence. Her patience with all of this had truly worn thin.
Halcourt pierced Luke with an inquisitive look, a demand for an answer.
Luke shrugged. “It came up.”
Halcourt’s dark eyes grew even darker. “In what capacity?”
“When Lord Longfield was accused of being a traitor,” Vivian replied, speaking for herself. “And when Poppins tried to burn down the inn where we slept. He also had our carriage targeted for ambush. Oh, and Templar is my uncle.”
That got a reaction from Halcourt. Surprise flashed across his face.
“You delivered the journal. You’re thoroughly done with this, Kenswick.”
Luke heard the warning and laughed. “Heavens yes,” he lied. “Done with it all. I just want to make some heirs and serve my country from inside the walls of Parliament.”
It surprised Luke how the two ideas sounded appealing. The manipulations that came with being a spy, the way his life had been carved and crafted by an unseen puppeteer, that was not something he wanted to return to. Knowing what he did now, he wasn’t sure he could return to what he was before.
He looked at Vivian, and she met the warmth in his gaze. Who he was with Vivian sounded much more enticing.
“Then why have you come for a visit?” Halcourt asked. “I assume this isn’t a social call?”
“Not quite. I need a chemist. Who is the best you’ve got?”
Halcourt face was blank, as if he hadn’t understood a word Luke had uttered.
Luke borrowed the fib Vivian had told her aunt and cousins. “It’s a silly game I’ve entered into with some chums from Oxford. A race across England, finding clues, solving riddles.” Luke shrugged. “Old habits.”
“With Luke’s talents towards this sort of thing, we thought it might be an easy win,” Vivian added. “But we are stumped with this problem.”
“And need some assistance.”
Halcourt did not look convinced, but he also didn’t argue. “There is a brilliant chemist I can recommend, with an interest in explosives, but he is young. A student at Oxford, but clever, and thinks differently than his professors. He shows great promise for the field of chemistry, but also things that might have a more clandestine application.”
Luke’s stomach dropped to his knees. Oxford? That was an eight-hour carriage ride, and the same back again. Did they have sixteen hours to waste?
“But luckily for you, he is in London until tomorrow.”
Luke’s ears perked up. “Splendid. Where might we find him?”
Halcourt watched him carefully before replying, “At Bradstone House.”
* * *
Vivian didn’t understand the implication, aside from having to face Luke’s family again.
Luke, however, grasped the situation better than she did. His tone turned from flippant to hard as ice in barely a breath. “Tell me you did not involve him.”
Halcourt gave a small shrug. “It’s not my fault he’s the best chemist to come up in the past years. Talk to him about it.”
“I thought he was studying botany?”
“He merely told Bradstone he’s studying botany. Again, talk to your brother, Kenswick. But if you need a chemist right this moment, Lord Charlie is your best bet.”
Lord Charlie, Luke’s youngest brother. Vivian wanted to groan. She understood Luke’s frustrations, as he likely didn’t want his baby brother involved in any of this espionage nonsense.
They took their leave quickly and without ceremony, in a race against the clock to solve this last piece of the puzzle Redley had laid out for them.
“Is the family in residence?” she asked as they moved through Mayfair.
“All the surviving Macalister siblings, their spouses and children,” Luke clarified. “It’s a family tradition.”
Her brow furrowed. “Were we not going to participate?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I hadn’t decided.”
“Why is it tradition?”
“Today is my sister Mara’s sixteenth birthday. Fifteen years ago, Father and Sam were killed by highwaymen. We were all en route home to celebrate Mara’s first birthday when we were set upon.”
Vivian smiled softly, leaning back into the cushions of the carriage. “And now everyone comes together to celebrate her birthday, rather than the tragedy that preceded it. That is nice of you all to do.”
Luke shrugged. “The tragedy that befell her birthday wasn’t her fault. It seemed cruel to punish her for it each year. Celebrating Mara’s birthday became a way to honor them, in way. Father and Sam died protecting the rest of us. Their sacrifice is only worth something if we make the most of it.”
Bradstone House stood across from Hyde Park in a very fashionable part of London, but Vivian barely saw any of it. They were admitted by the formidable-looking butler, who took their hats and gloves. Luke’s gloves. Vivian didn’t remove hers.
“We can show ourselves up, Howards,” Luke said as they moved towards the stairs. “No need to announce us, I remember where things are.”
“We’ve been wondering when you might arrive,” Sarah said as she came into the foyer from a back hallway. “There also might be a running bet that you’d forgotten.”
“Forgotten Mara’s birthday? Not likely.”
Sarah’s smile was pleasant as she turned towards Vivian. “It’s lovely to see you again. Welcome to another of the Macalister family traditions. It’s likely to be a bit batty.”
“Thank you, your grace. I will try and keep up.”
Sarah glanced between the newlyweds before she turned up the back staircase. Luke and Vivian followed.
There was a rousing chorus of excitement as Vivian and Luke entered the room. A whist game was in progress and Luke and Vivian were soon dealt into the next hand, and the next. Charlie was occupied with the game, so they would have to wait to speak with him. By the third round, when Vivian and Luke had trounced both sets of duke and duchess, a pause was called
on the game. Norah and Trevor excused themselves for a moment to tend to their daughter. The remaining members floated to different chairs and settees. Luke managed to maneuver himself and Vivian, enticing Lord Charlie to follow them to the other side of the room.
“Charlie, I’ve a query for you.” Luke pulled the parchments from his jacket. “I’ve been told you’re the person to ask about explosives.” His head tilted forward in a clear challenge.
Charlie had the same dark brown curls all the Macalister’s shared, and bright blue eyes set behind a pair of spectacles. His face was thin with dark circles under his eyes.
“I say, Charlie, are you well?” Vivian interjected. “You look tired. Doesn’t he look tired, Luke?”
Luke nodded in agreement. “Quite. Are your studies harrowing up there in Oxford? Studying botany?”
Charlie grimaced and motioned them further into the room, away from the whist tables.
“If you are inquiring, then you know the answer,” Charlie responded. “And yes, I am tired. I’m studying for my final exams but I had to take time away to come here to London for Mara’s birthday.” Charlie pulled his glasses from his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I love my sister and this family-” He produced a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped the glass. “But sometimes you lot can be rather…”
“Suffocating?” Luke offered.
Charlie replaced his glasses and nodded. “Quite.”
Luke turned towards his wife. “I think we might have an excellent way for my brother to release some of that suppressed energy. A relief from the stress, so to speak. Provided he produces top marks at the end of term.”
Charlie’s face perked up. “What do you have in mind?”
Luke studied him for a moment. “I heard you have a penchant for chemistry. I’ve an extra house or two that we no longer need.”
Vivian picked up on Luke’s hint. “Yes, with plans for destruction.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Luke nodded. “Though, if you’re really the chap to see about explosives, I’m going to need a reference.” Luke thrust the papers into Charlie’s hands. “And an audition.”
The brothers shared a heavy look, something of a challenge passing between them. At length, Charlie took the papers, adjusting his spectacles as he examined them.
“Do you recognize this combination of numbers and letters?” Vivian asked. “Does it mean anything to you?”
He eyed her peculiarly, glancing between his brother and sister-in-law. “What are you two in the middle of?”
Luke shrugged. “Just a game with some Oxford chums. Lordly fellows with nothing better to do.”
Charlie did not look convinced, but didn’t push for more answers. He moved to a desk along the wall and pulled a fresh page from the stack. He unearthed the inkwell and dipped the quill into the ink, tapped off the excess, and began to rewrite the letter number combinations.
“If you organize it like this, it’s a chemical formula,” Charlie explained and looked pointedly at his brother. “Salt peter, charcoal and Sulphur. It’s gunpowder.” Charlie tapped on the peculiar drawing. “But this diagram is unusual, and this equation here— did you do this math?”
Luke shook his head. “That’s how it was given to us.”
Charlie smirked. “I didn’t think so. This seems a tad advanced, no offense.” He turned and caught the attention of someone and waved them over.
“Hello, brothers,” Lord Nick Macalister said with a cheeky grin. “And new sister-in-law. Are we planning something devious over here? If so count me in!”
Charlie showed him the papers. “Nick, is this math correct?”
Luke regarded his younger brothers, doubt racing across his face as he went to pull the papers back, but Nick stopped him.
“Let’s check.” Nick swapped places with Charlie at the desk. He scratched through the equations with an impressive efficiency.
“The math is correct.” Nick set the quill down, his brows pinched together. He exchanged a disbelieving glance with Charlie. “This math is for a force of energy.”
Charlie nodded. “Combined with the chemical formulas, you’re looking at some sort of explosion.”
“A hand thrown grenade?” Luke asked.
“Not quite. This diagram indicates it is stationary.” Charlie pointed out the various parts of the small explosive shell. “It would be small enough to hold, but not as heavy as a cannonball.”
“But larger than a grenade judging by the energy output,” Nick added. He set a pinch of sand against the paper, shaking to cover the wet ink before he tipped it back into the dish.
“How powerful could this be?” Luke asked. “Could it take out a wall?”
“Of stone? Probably. Wood, for certain.”
“If in a confined space, the explosion would be greater,” Charlie added. “No room for the waves of energy to go, so they ricochet off themselves, like an echo.”
“Small space, larger boom, got it. Anything else to add?”
“There was nothing like this during the war,” Charlie replied thoughtfully. “But there were rumors, theories that scientists were racing to prove to give Napoleon an edge over the Coalition Forces. There were theories the French were developing something along these lines, but it was never finished. Napoleon was promised a great weapon when he returned to France, but whatever it was never arrived.”
Luke had heard the rumors too. Those rumors had led him to a particularly attractive chemist who had commandeered his attentions, waylaid his mission. In search of a weapon with enough explosive power to take down a building, but Luke had never discovered what it was. Colette had had a remarkable mind, more imagination than was healthy for a zealot with a proclivity for explosives. He’d been so taken under her spell he’d married her, hopeful to gain her trust and the information, but with no success. Either it didn’t exist or she’d concealed it from him until the end. With her death, the rumors became whispers of a hopeful army to end the suffering of a decade-long war.
Luke gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s only for a game.”
Charlie was unconvinced. “If you say so.”
Chapter Twenty Four
After two more hands of whist, and a joyous birthday dinner for the sweet sixteen-year-old Lady Mara Macalister, Vivian hoped Luke realized they were out of options.
They needed help.
Luke and Vivian sat the furthest away from where the birthday girl entertained her family with a beautiful performance of Vivaldi’s Summer from Four Seasons.
“They’re going to cause an explosion tomorrow, during the royal wedding,” Vivian whispered to Luke. “We don’t know where Martin or Poppins are, and Redley has yet to show his face. We have a slim understanding of the grenade-like device to be used, but even I believe your brothers when they say it could be catastrophic. We need help with this, Luke. We’ve reached the end of what we can do on our own.”
Vivian felt let down by her government, by the people who claimed they would handle things. When the time came, those same people looked the other way, demanded more evidence. Nothing could be certain without witnesses.
There was about to be a city worth of witnesses if the royal family and heads of government were crushed when the room imploded.
Her irritation at their leader’s unwillingness to act was minute compared to what Luke must be feeling. After he’d given a decade of his life in service to the Crown, this was their repayment. Disbelief and dismissal. It was a wonder he wished to remain in service to the lot of them.
Luke sighed, and his gaze met hers. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the next step is. I feel like I am falling here, Vivian, and I don’t have anything to meet me at the ground. The things I thought I knew to be true, things I believed with every ounce that I am, have turned out to be manipulations and lies. All a carefully-crafted chess game where I believed I was the king, but really, I was just the pawn. I don’t have anyone else I can trust.” There
was an underlying pain in his tone, as though he truly believed that.
She leaned towards him, wrapping her fingers around his forearm. “Luke, you have me. We’ve weathered this together this far, and we will see this to the end. You’re not falling, not really. Not when I am here to catch you and pull you back up,”
The intensity in his gaze almost took her breath away. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, Vivian. Tell me what we need to do next, because I am out of ideas.”
Did he not realize where he was? Who was here with him, willing to offer unconditional support, as only family could?
“Look around you, Husband. You’ve a whole army here ready to support you.”
His gaze traveled around the room, through the earls and dukes and ladies who would give their support no matter what blunders he made. No matter that he’d lied to them for nearly a decade. No matter what danger he’d endured and he’d not given them the chance to worry over him.
“I couldn’t…”
“You could,” she insisted. “From what you’ve told me, Lord Sandton was a sharpshooter in the army. Lord Westcott does some sort of investigating for the Home Office, and he holds a position in the government. You’ve two dukes in there who look at you as if you’re the most incredible man in the world. And you are, Luke; you’re incredibly lucky to have this mass of people for support.”
“Vivian, I would have to tell them.”
“And it’s about time you did.”
His gaze searched hers, and she could see the torment that raced through his eyes and the argument he had within himself.
“They’ll still be here on the other side,” she said gently and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
* * *
It took fifteen minutes for Mara’s performance to end, and then another ten to wrangle his married siblings into one room. Mara was sent upstairs, much to her disappointment, but Luke was not about to have her involved in this. Charlie and Nick were already more involved than he liked. He would not allow Mara anywhere near this unpleasantness.
The Spy’s Convenient Bride: The Macalisters, Book Five Page 30
