Authors: Jo Goodman
"And the Earl of Whittington?" asked North.
"Much the same, except the manner of approach. Battenburn cornered Whittington at their club. Whittington confided that if he had not known what was toward, he would have thought Battenburn was discussing some sort of lucrative trading scheme."
Elizabeth leaned a little toward her husband, brushing his shoulder with her own. His arm came around the back of the sofa and provided a shelter. Neither of them noticed the colonel's small, self-congratulatory smile through the wreath of his pipe smoke.
"What of the others?" Elizabeth asked. "Reston. Albermarle. Dunwithy."
"Nothing yet. It is of no matter. For our purposes, Battenburn need only to have contacted one. When he reveals that he has information that could have been gleaned in no other way except through the theft of the ambassador's private papers, we will have him."
"What of Louise? She is his supporter in all things."
Blackwood nodded. "I'm afraid her capture largely depends on her taking part in the baron's meeting with Whittington and Sutton. If she absents herself, it will be more difficult to prove her involvement." He noted Elizabeth's thoughtful expression and went on. "North, you will go to Battenburn's country estate. The meeting is planned for the ninth."
"You do not intend I should invite myself, do you?"
"Heavens no. It would do no good at all for him to know you were there. I wondered why Battenburn would choose to meet with these men in the country when there are so many private clubs and even his own town residence available. I think it may be that he is suspicious of a trap. Lord and Lady Battenburn feel safer in their own home. Would you agree, Elizabeth?"
"Yes. But I know every inch of the Battenburn estate."
The colonel smiled and released a puff of smoke. "Just so. And you will teach North what he did not learn during his summer sojourn."
"I will not." Both men stared at her. "Not unless it is agreed I can accompany my husband. Oh, do not look at me so. There is more danger to North alone than with me as his companion. He has explored little of Battenburn and could easily get lost in the passages without my help. It is not enough for me to teach him the way. Not with so little time. We have waited more than a week for Harrison and Louise to act on what they took from the ambassador's residence. That they have chosen to reveal their plans at Battenburn is to our advantage rather than the opposite. There are few rooms there that do not connect to another, either directly or through a little-used corridor. The baron and baroness are not even aware of the extent of them. They have never fully appreciated the novelty of the estate and its place in history. I was the one who explored the passages."
Elizabeth regarded the colonel levelly. "I imagine you mean to use the passages to permit North to eavesdrop on the baron's conversation with Sutton and Whittington."
"Perhaps I need to rethink it," Blackwood said sardonically. "It does not seem so remarkable a plan when I hear it from your lips."
North's chuckle was cut short when Elizabeth dug her elbow into his ribs. He grunted softly. "What was that in aid of?"
"You were taking his side." To the colonel, she said, "Have you both forgotten that I am the Gentleman Thief?" They both remained stoically silent, careful not to catch the other's eye. "I am much better suited to gaining entry to Battenburn than North, or any other member of the Compass Club for that matter. I am quicker and lighter and I know my way without hesitating. And if that were not enough, I know where Louise keeps what remains of the jewelry I have stolen for her over the years."
* * *
North could still not credit that he was not alone on his journey to Battenburn. Elizabeth rode beside him and had the good sense to say little, recognizing that his mood was almost as black as their riding clothes. It did not appease him in any way that she looked little enough like the woman he married. Her attire was thoroughly male, borrowed from the servants when Brill steadfastly refused to allow her to pilfer from his own wardrobe. His manservant was determined to sleep in the dressing room if it meant saving North's chitterlings and frock coats from Elizabeth's hands.
In truth, the borrowed togs were a better fit for her than anything she could have found among his things. Everything had been laundered and pressed so that no odor of the stable or kitchen clung to the material. It was little comfort to him. His wife was wearing trousers and riding astride, and when he mentioned those things she called him a prig.
And she had not been teasing.
Elizabeth slowed Becket to a walk as a coach thundered on the road behind them. She raised her scarf to keep dust from flying in her face. The capes of her greatcoat fluttered as the coach passed and her gelding shied a little to the sloping side of the road.
North came parallel with her immediately. "Control your mount," he said tersely. "And do not let the coaches run you off the road."
Elizabeth's chin came up and cleared the folds of the woolen scarf. "I do not know if you could be more determinedly unpleasant."
"I assure you, I can."
"Then, pray, do not restrain yourself on my account."
North's mouth snapped shut. Seeing her dressed in such a fashion reminded him of her escape from London... and him. He did not need to hear it from her lips to know that she had changed into such clothes on her way to Stonewickam. The most likely place had been at the inn where she seemed to have simply vanished. The thought of her traveling across the countryside—then and now—chilled his blood.
"I have already apologized for calling you a prig. Twice." She spared him a glance and sighed loudly when she saw that his jaw was still tightly set. She had many reasons for wishing there was less moon this night, not the least of which was that its glow made North's countenance all too visible to her. "Would you have me wear a gown for this work? It is deuced difficult crawling around those corridors in a dress. I know, North, because I have torn more hems and bodices than you can imagine doing it. And what manner of man sets out this time of night with his wife on horseback?"
He gave her a sharp look.
Elizabeth went on quickly. "I mean a wife who appears to be just that. The innkeeper would have been shocked. Dressed in this manner he thought nothing of you riding out with one of the grooms and assumes your lady is safely in your bed."
"Had I come alone," North was compelled to point out, "my lady would be safely in my London bed, and I would have ridden to Battenburn in a single day. No such ruse would have been necessary."
"You would have been surpassingly tired. The trip is tedious and overlong to make in a single day. You will thank me for insisting on stopping when you are cramped inside one of the passages for hours on end."
North's jaw clamped shut again. This time a muscle jumped in his cheek. He jammed his hat lower over his brow and thwarted the chill wind that pressed against his face.
"You would not have objections if I were South or West or East," said Elizabeth.
"Bloody hell, Elizabeth, I wish you
were
south, west, or east of here."
"That is not what I meant and you know it."
"You are my
wife."
"I suppose you mean that as an explanation of this obdurate position you have taken, but frankly, North, I think it speaks most eloquently to your prejudices."
"My prejudices?"
"Yes," she said tardy. "Precisely so. It is because I am a woman that you find my assistance so difficult to accept."
"Dammit, Elizabeth! It is because I
love
you." Out of the corner of his eye he saw her flinch in the saddle. Even Becket faltered a little at the thunder in his voice. "I love you," North repeated more softly this time. "I would not have you hurt."
"And I share that sentiment in the same way about you," she said. "I could not have stayed behind and waited for your return. Do not misunderstand, Northam. I know there will be times when I have to do exactly that. I do not believe for a single moment that our marriage will make a difference to the colonel when he is choosing a man for his peculiar assignments. I
will
wait then. I will hate it, but I will do it because I can offer nothing but my support. This is different. We are safer together than we would be alone."
North wasn't certain he believed that, but it was clear to him that Elizabeth did. "When we reach Battenburn you will do as I say."
"Of course. The colonel said I must."
He gave her a sideways look. "I say you must."
She saluted him smartly.
"Other hand, Elizabeth. You salute with your right."
"Oh." She dropped her chin below her scarf to hide her quivering smile.
* * *
They arrived at Battenburn before dawn. Morning light would have made their approach impossible. The horses were tethered in the wood. North hid their caped greatcoats and hats and carried only a pouch slung over one shoulder. They traveled across the frozen ground on foot. North had to admit that finding a way in would have been difficult without Elizabeth's help, though he did not share this aloud. All the doors to the main hall were bolted, and the underground entrance from the stable to the kitchen was where they were most likely to run afoul of a servant.
North had known of country estates with underground passages, but he had not realized Battenburn had such a corridor. They existed largely to give the illusion that the bucolic palaces were managed as if by magic, with servants coming and going from town without ever being seen by the lord and lady of the manor. Elizabeth was correct: The entrance was of little use to them.
She suggested instead that they climb to a window. North stood back and looked up, wondering how they would narrow the choices to one that was likely to be open. "The gallery," she told him. "There is a window there that does not latch properly. It will require only that you give me a leg up. I can easily let you in another way."
It was accomplished with alacrity. The house remained silent, the occupants unaware of the intruders. Lord and Lady Battenburn slept undisturbed and the servants who were beginning to rise were still making their way down from the attic. Whittington and Sutton were not expected to arrive until the noon hour, which meant North and Elizabeth had a long wait before them.
Elizabeth led North upstairs through a passage that paralleled the servants' staircase. She kept her hand cupped around a stub of a candle so the light would not slip through cracks in the wall. The corridor was narrow and steep and their jackets had attracted a thin layer of dust and cobwebs by the time they reached the top. He helped her push their way through to an empty bedchamber by moving aside a large armoire.
He recognized the room at once. "This is where South slept." He brushed off one of his shoulders.
"Careful," Elizabeth admonished him. "You will leave a trail that will make one of the chambermaids suspicious. Here, let me wipe your boots." Before he could stop her, Elizabeth was kneeling in front of him, giving his boots a buffing with the sleeve of her jacket. She rather clumsily did the same to her own.
North hauled her to her feet. "Enough. The fact that we are standing in the middle of a room with no excuse for our presence at the ready is more my concern than cobwebby boots."
He was right, of course. Elizabeth carefully opened the door to the hallway and listened.
Behind her, North asked, "Did you get into South's room through the passage?"
"No. I slipped in this way. It wasn't difficult. He sleeps like the dead." Elizabeth gave North a quelling look when he chuckled. "You are too noisy."
North dutifully reined himself in. "Where are we going next?"
Elizabeth closed the door all but a crack before she answered him. "There is a drawing room in this wing that connects to a passage that in turn connects to many other rooms. It is our best hope to wait there. We can move somewhat freely, and perhaps learn which room the baron will use to meet with his guests."
"Lead on."
Elizabeth slipped into the hallway with North on her heels. Entry to the drawing room required that they remain in the open for just more than half a minute. Once, when Elizabeth thought she heard a servant on the backstairs, they ducked into a bedchamber and waited for what seemed forever. When they finally reached their destination, North rounded on her, kissing her soundly.
"What was that in aid of?" she whispered when he drew back.
"In aid of an apology," he said. "You were right. I could not have managed finding these rooms on my own."
"Oh, that's all right, then." She slipped out from under North's arms, which were braced on either side of her shoulders. "This way."
The drawing room's passage opened through a panel beside the fireplace. It required North and Elizabeth to crawl for a distance of some twenty feet before there was enough headroom to stand. The passage then dipped downward with a set of steep spiral stairs. Elizabeth led him to a halfway point before she halted. "We wait here," she said softly. She sat down on one of the narrow steps and leaned back against the wall.
North took a seat a few steps above her. His shoulders almost filled the space between the walls. He raised the stub of the candle briefly, looked around him, and then blew it out. There was a complete absence of light in the corridor, and the darkness was not something one could adjust to. It was impenetrable. "Where are we?" he whispered.