My Lord the Spy (17 page)

Bernard and the ever-silent Claude emerged from the beach. Joshua smiled; if only everyone knew that Claude was French and hated the English almost as much as Boneparte himself. He was very useful to have as an ally, almost unstoppable when in a fight.

“Is everything ready?” Joshua asked Bernard, there was no need or time for pleasantries.

“Yes, although there is a little change of plan,” Bernard said, holding his hand out to indicate that he wanted a cheroot. Joshua reluctantly gave up one of his own.

“What now?” came the exasperated question.

“There’ll be five men and their ‘luggage’,” Bernard responded.

“Why so many?”

“Someone has decided that now is the time to have a larger attack. Our five will make a total of fifteen being landed across the coast. This is the best spot; that’s why we have five,” Bernard answered. There was no longer any sign of the jolly trader that Charles had seen; here was an efficient operative of the French.

“It’s still going to be difficult to get them away from here.”

“The caves are perfect. They’re aware that they’re going to be staying in the cave system until the following evening. We want to be sure all of them from the other landing places have got ashore and are safe and sound before we start transporting them to the capital. Next week our King will see explosions in all the important places in his city; hopefully he’ll be near enough so at least one explosion will see him finished off for good, although I’m glad I don’t have that responsibility. I’ve got your next set of orders,” Bernard said handing Joshua a letter.

“I’m to follow them into London. It will be good to get out of this place,” Joshua said with feeling when he had read the missive.

“At least you have a comfortable bed. The inn we’re staying in is wanting, even for Claude!” Bernard chuckled.

“So, in two nights?” Joshua asked noticing the scowl that Claude sent Bernard and wondering, not for the first time, just how much the Frenchman could understand.

“Yes. The weather isn’t going to be great, but it’ll do. They’re all coming in separate boats in case there are any problems.”

“There shouldn’t be; this beach is empty apart from when that lot go on it. I’ve not noticed anyone else on it while I’ve been here.”

“Good. This can’t fail. See you on Wednesday,” Bernard said cheerfully before leaving the beach house.

Joshua waited for at least fifteen minutes, listening for the slightest noise. He could make out the movements of a boat being pushed into the sea and, once he was sure it would have disappeared around the headland, he left the building and returned to the house. He was going to enjoy at least half of that bottle of brandy tonight to wipe out the tedious evening he had had to endure. He was glad it was coming to an end; he would never again volunteer to befriend a nob; he would much rather find his gambling money from other sources than have to put up with the drivel spoken by Charles and his ilk.

The beach and surrounding area had been quiet for some time before the blankets and rugs at the rear of the beach hut started to move. Edmund emerged slowly, brushing fibres off his clothing with a grimace; he was convinced his clothing would never look pristine again after this evening.

It had been a huge risk on his part to hide out in the beach house, but he had heard nothing on the previous occasion Joshua and his cronies met. At least now he knew what their plans were and that Clara would be safe from Joshua Shambles in just two nights.

He had longed to jump out of his hiding place and pummel Shambles into the ground but for once he had managed to rein in his temper. There would be time for that when Shambles was secure in some prison cell somewhere; it would achieve nothing but his own satisfaction to make a move now.

Edmund flopped into one of the wooden cushioned chairs, rubbing his hands over his face. He felt out of sorts, but it was nothing to do with lack of sleep. It was more to do with the feeling of not being in control. He had always been fully in charge of his life until these last few days. If he had mistresses, he chose who they were to be and decided when the assignation would end. But this, this was different.

How could an innocent chit of a girl turn his world upside down so much? It was ridiculous. Never before had he been drawn to someone. In the past if a woman, and he had only ever dallied with a certain kind of woman, had started to behave in a way that was not straight forward, he made sure that he never bothered with her again. Now, though, he was banned from Clara’s house, had been rejected by her, and felt as if his world were collapsing in on him; he had no idea what to do to make things better.

He stood up, wanting to kick something hard; while Joshua Shambles was intent on nefarious activities there was no opportunity to do anything, especially putting this whole sorry episode behind him. Not one to be idle he determined that once Wednesday had passed and Henry was finally happy with Joshua in custody, Edmund was returning to London determined to move on with his life, and that consisted of withdrawing from any espionage and forgetting about the dark-haired, blue-eyed Miss Clara Baker.

*

Milly met Clara when she left the breakfast room. She had been up early and was eager to be outside. “Morning, Clara. I hope you slept well.”

“I did,” Clara responded. There was no advantage to being honest with her cousin, by explaining that thoughts of both Joshua and Edmund had kept her awake well into the night.

“Good. I’m abandoning you this morning, my dear. The sun is out, and I want to catch the effect on the waves.”

Clara smiled at her cousin. “Do you never tire of painting the same view?”

“It never is the same view,” Milly responded with a smile. “I shall return sometime this afternoon.”

Clara was joined at breakfast by Miss Beresford, Miss Walsh and Charles. She suppressed a smile when Charles walked into the dining room with a smile on his face; he was never about this early normally and certainly never smiling if he was forced to attend breakfast.

“Miss Baker, your brother has kindly offered to accompany myself and Miss Walsh to Lyme today. Would you like to join us?” Miss Beresford asked pleasantly, smiling up at Charles as he sat next to her.

“Will there be room in the carriage?” Clara asked. She wanted to know if Joshua was going, but was not going to ask such a direct question.

“Yes, I’ll ride alongside, and there will be four ladies in the carriage if you join us, Clara,” Charles said easily.

“In that case I’d be delighted!” There was no sense in her staying in the house almost alone. Mr Beresford tended to sleep most of the time, so she would without doubt come into contact with Joshua, and she wanted to avoid that if at all possible. Milly would spend the day on the beach; she often did, so Clara did not feel as if she were abandoning her cousin.

The group gathered in the hallway after breakfast; Miss Walsh chattered excitedly to her friend. Charles approached Clara, who was fixing her bonnet. “I’ve suggested we don’t stop en route, it will take us two hours at a fair speed.”

“Is your friend not joining us?” Clara asked quietly.

“No. Joshua wouldn’t be interested in fripperies and shopping,” Charles sighed. “He’s been a bit of a grump since we’ve reached home. He wanted to rusticate, but I don’t think he’s enjoying himself at all. He’s been a tad irritating to be honest.”

Clara’s heart lifted at Charles’ words, but she did not let her feelings show. This was the first time Charles had ever criticised his friend, long may it continue. “Perhaps there just aren’t enough entertainments around these parts to keep him occupied. He said himself he’s never been to the seaside before. Sometimes what we wish for is not necessarily enjoyable when we receive it.”

“Maybe not, but every day is precious where Miss Beresford is concerned. Joshua knows that and is being a bit of a beast,” Charles responded indignantly.

“She is a lovely young lady.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The brother and sister rejoined the group for once both happy with their conversation.

The party made good time to Lyme and Clara was able to enjoy seeing Charles treat Miss Beresford as a precious jewel. The party meandered around the shops before walking along the public promenade known locally as ‘The Walk’. They did not venture onto the Cobb, worrying about being swept away by the sea; Clara thought Charles was being a tad overcautious in this instance but let his comments about it being unsafe go unchallenged. The day was bright but blustery, and all the ladies held fast to their bonnets as they watched a few brave souls using the bathing machines.

Returning to the relative shelter of the streets, the party entered the Three Cups Inn, situated on Broad Street. It was one of two perfectly respectable inns in the town, and Charles managed to secure a private room.

“The town is delightful, albeit a little small,” Miss Beresford exclaimed looking out of the window at the constant hustle and bustle passing up and down Broad Street.

“The land is such that it’s difficult to extend, but I think it helps it to remain charming,” Charles said with authority. He had been acting the guide since they had stepped out of the carriage.

“Would society not be restricted because of that?” Miss Walsh asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, but Clara suspected that she was reminding her friend that she enjoyed a varied social scene.

“I suppose the question is, what area of society do you wish to be part of?” Clara asked pleasantly.

“I don’t understand,” Miss Walsh responded.

“In London, Brighton and even Bath most of us would go unnoticed by the top members of society, we would very much be small fish in a large pond. Here though, society is quite restricted and so, even though someone living here might have a smaller fortune, they are very much at the top of society.”

Clara had said the words without any untoward thoughts towards Miss Walsh; She was looking after her friend just as Clara was looking after her brother. She responded to the smile of understanding that Miss Walsh aimed in her direction.

“You must know everyone,” Miss Beresford said, smiling up at Charles. “It must be pleasant to be a member of society here. I would find it delightful, walking down the street and always seeing someone I knew.”

Charles beamed; the main source of entertainment for his future life had been approved of by his love.

The light meal provided by the inn was enjoyed by the party before they set-off to visit some of the shops along Broad Street. Clara managed to separate Charles from Miss Beresford.

“Today has gone well,” she started, linking her arm through her brother’s.

“Yes, better than I expected,” Charles responded with a smile. “Miss Beresford has given me permission to speak to her father.”

“That is excellent news! When do you intend to do it?”

“Tonight. I don’t want to waste any time. I would like to announce the engagement tomorrow; that way, when she returns to London on Thursday, she will be engaged,” Charles said happily.

“Are we to follow the Beresfords?” Clara had not spoken to Charles about their return to London. Until now, she had been afraid of putting Joshua into conflict with her brother, but this was Charles’ future, and it was important.

“I’ve told Joshua that if everything goes to plan, we’ll be returning on Friday. I don’t intend spending too long away from Miss Beresford.”

“I’m glad to hear that. What did Mr Shambles say about our removal?”

“He muttered something about not caring less when I left, which I thought was decidedly unsportsmanlike of him! I don’t know what’s got into him these last few days,” the ever innocent Charles said with feeling.

Clara, for once, did not respond with criticism of Joshua. If he did not mind their return to London on Friday, it could only mean one thing: whatever he needed to do would be completed by Friday. A sense of dread and nervousness developed in Clara’s stomach; she hoped for all their sakes anything that was going to happen would occur on Thursday night when the Beresfords had left for London.

Chapter 15

Henry was bored. He had accompanied the Brandons to an evening of entertainment at Glazebrook House, which was destined to be a tedious night. The young women were too innocent and single to warrant his attention, or what was even worse: his being in the company of three spinsters. The prettiest lady in the group was Miss Baker, but she was definitely off limits; Edmund was smitten with the girl. Henry did not have many rules that he lived by, but he was not about to infringe on another man’s love; the thought of a duel or a fight which was more common in these enlightened days since duels were outlawed.

He sighed; he completely understood why Edmund moaned of boredom every time he was sent into a parlour. Henry was normally more willing to engage in house parties, but even he would rather be on the beach with Edmund; at least there was no inane chatter to put up with there.

After a few moments he roused himself; if he did not do something he would spend the evening glaring at the blaggard Joshua Shambles. He could not afford to reveal himself after so many months of not-so-patient observation.

Henry watched Miss Holland for a few moments. He had noticed her a lot over the last few days; she was quite pretty for her age and had a quietly confident air about her. She did not have the desperate look that some spinsters had and, from her conversation, she was clearly intelligent. He wondered briefly why she had not married some country squire or some such sort but decided that he was not interested enough to ponder too much about her background. Out of the whole party she was the one who interested him the most, possibly because she gave him the impression of being completely self-sufficient, as if she did not need anyone but herself for comfort or entertainment, which Henry had never observed in a female before.