The Nobleman and the Spy (19 page)

His mouth had gone tight, his eyes bleak, and Karl understood there was a story there. “This captain—”

But Jonathan interrupted, his voice cold. “Think, Karl. If you should march back there, your enemy would realize you were not injured after all. They"d realize you were on to them and there was some sort of counterplot.”

Karl walked back down the stairs. Jonathan was right, of course. “I should have insisted on staying with my uncle,” Karl said, bitter that he"d once again allowed other men to direct his life. “I"m a fair shot, and I know how to fight.

Instead I left Lord Merridew, an older man, to take care of my problems. And for no good reason. Explain why this is necessary, but pray don"t make it lengthy. I might want to catch the early morning train back to the city.”

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They walked into the sitting room near the bottom of the stairs. Karl stood, arms folded over his chest, waiting. Reese knew it was time to admit the truth. He wanted to reach for the other man but thought better of touching him. “If you"d stayed in London, I-I could not. They would have known I was there at your uncle"s house, and that would not have been usual in the normal course of events. I"d have had to leave to stop the talk, and if I wasn"t with you, I couldn"t protect you.”

Karl let his hands fall to his sides and drew in a long breath. “Ah. Indeed.”

And he gave a sudden, startling crack of laughter. “Protect me, is it?”

Reese walked away, mortified that he"d not understood his own reasons better.

“My first priority is to find the man who wants to kill you.” Track and kill the killer with his bare hands, preferably.

“I applaud your sentiment. But I wonder why you won"t look at me now and admit the entire truth. For such a brave man, you occasionally act the coward.”

“What truth do you want?” Reese couldn"t turn away from the window. He felt his face burn as he stared out over the lawn.

Karl came to him and gently laid his hand on Reese"s shoulder. A formal gesture, but still entirely intimate.

“This is a guess on my part. A hopeful one. Perhaps your admission that part of the reason you wanted to be here instead of London is that you wished to be with me? You crave the pleasure you and I have together.”

Reese wanted to protest, but knew he couldn"t. He"d been selfish, indulging in his longing to have constant access to Karl in a spot where he wouldn"t have to share him with anyone. Such a desire was new, utterly unlike his usual way.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, selfish craving had trumped duty, and worse even, muddied clear thinking. No wonder he had been able to hide that particular truth from himself, no matter how obvious it might be now.

“All right. I admit it.” He turned away from the window and met Karl"s gaze.

He successfully kept his voice light, as if he found the topic was amusing. “Is there any other weakness in me you want to expose?”

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“When I spoke of your captain, I noticed you flinched. Ah, no, that is far too strong a description of your response. I noted the shadow of a grimace. I"m well trained to read people, Jonathan. Even hidden people like you.”

“Your Excellency, you are astute,” was all Jonathan could say. But then he swallowed and managed, “I trusted the wrong man. That is all.”

“This captain, he"s why you don"t easily trust people now?”

“I never have.” He didn"t know what else to do with himself. He couldn"t stay near Karl, so he walked to a chair and sat. “And I have no wish to dwell in the past.”
Especially that past
. Although the customary sorrow and emptiness he"d felt when he thought of the captain was gone. Now he only felt anger that he"d been taken in. Anger and embarrassment that he"d allowed emotion to blind him to the fact his beloved captain was a criminal in league with smugglers, using the information he gleaned from his position to alert the smugglers to the movements of the excisemen.

“Very well. If you"re uninterested in the past, let"s discuss the future.” Karl"s smile was more like a leer. He walked over to the sofa facing Reese and sat, back straight as always, but hands casually resting on his knees as he examined Reese.

“I"ve already suggested a plan I believe would suit us both. Once we settle this nonsense, you will submit to that conversation, my friend. Submit to my will, for once.”

Gad, the man was relentless. Jonathan forced himself to ignore the smile.

“Karl, I apologize for forcing you to flee London.”

The smile was so broad and bright now, it was impossible not to return it.

“Apology accepted.”

“We must think of the more immediate future,” Reese continued. “Do you think Lord Merridew is right to guess that your father should arrive in two days to visit you?”

Karl sighed. “Yes, I think he"d like an excuse to come to London anyway. A gravely injured son would be perfect. Lord Merridew can keep the servants at bay, 132

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but he can"t very well bar the door against my own father. God knows I wish he could.” Karl frowned. “All right, Mr. Reese, I will return my attention to the matter at hand, and I take your meaning. It would be best if the culprit was revealed before my father comes to England.”

Reese nodded. “We"re not entirely cut off out here in the country, you know.

Gilley promised to send word about any sort of developments. The train makes London less than an hour away, and Lord Merridew ordered a horse be made available at the inn next to the train station. Gilley will send a messenger.”

“Nevertheless, I think my hiding is unnecessary. I am much better now. Not a trace of a headache, thanks to your fine care. I"ve decided I must return to London this evening, under the cover of dark,” Karl said.

Reese shook his head but didn"t speak. He already knew Karl well enough to understand there was no point in arguing with him when he displayed that streak of autocratic decisiveness.

“I feel your disapproval, Mr. Reese. I"m not such a fool to go to my uncle"s house, but I am fit enough to help. Don"t worry; I shall also stay away from the hotel and my fellow countrymen.” He raised his golden brows. “Perhaps you know of a good place a man might hide?”

Reese did know of a place—a small apartment over a warehouse. Three clean small rooms with unpolished wooden floors and no decoration to speak of. He heard himself saying, “Yes. My rooms. Not too many blocks from your uncle"s home, although in a far less esteemed section of the city.”

No one had ever seen where he lived, so perhaps it was a sort of fear that made Reese"s heart speed up.

Every day that passed, every minute, he was letting Karl further into his life than anyone ever had gone. Much of that had to do with Karl"s overwhelming, effervescent, magnetic character, but maybe some of it had to do with himself. He"d had enough of his solitary life. Maybe he"d simply been waiting for a man like Karl to shake up his world.

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“You are welcome to stay,” Reese said quickly before he could change his mind about allowing Karl into his private sanctum. A moment of panic held him. He never invited anyone to the place he lived. He reminded himself that he had no attachment to those three rooms. He"d vanished before—more than once—and could become a ghost again if it proved necessary. If Karl proved to be an enemy after all.

Even as the thought came to him, he recognized how essentially ridiculous he was being. This was not how normal men outside of wartime lived.
You are not at
war any longer
. The realization was hardly new, but as always, it seemed profound and almost…odd.

He was still fooling himself, but he couldn"t bear the thought of needing anyone. He needed nothing. God, he was too tired to face this idiocy now. That was the source of his muddled thinking. Exhaustion.

“Think about it.”

“I shall,” Karl said gravely. “Thank you.”

Reese walked to the staircase. “I"ll see you in the morning.”

Karl didn"t protest. He only said, “It is already morning, isn"t it?”

Reese went upstairs to sleep alone in his own bed. He had to rest or he"d collapse. As he fell asleep, still fully dressed in someone else"s clothing, a vague sensation of loss filled him. Naturally they had to be clearheaded to face whatever danger lay in London. But these hours might have been his last chance to hold Karl, sleep with him in his arms. He"d never regretted the sensible course of action before, even the more difficult choices.

He woke just before dawn and went to Karl"s room. Karl lay on his back, awake and dressed. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he pushed himself up. “I missed holding you.”

Reese"s mouth went dry. “We needed the sleep.”

“And I imagine we wouldn"t have slept if we"d been in a bed together.” Karl"s smile was wide and wicked.

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Reese cleared his throat. “Are you still determined to return to London?”

Karl nodded and rose, all easy grace.

Reese considered going to him, tasting a fast kiss, but he suspected he couldn"t bear only a brief touch. He walked back to the door. “I"ll go see if the servants are stirring.”

“It"s well past five. Naturally they are.” Karl was serious, of course. In his world, all servants would be up long before dawn.

Reese pulled on his boots and went down the stairs. There was a sudden fierce banging on the door. He reached for his pistol, which usually sat in the holster under his jacket. Damn and blast it, he"d left it upstairs.

The banging started again, and he went to answer it.

Herr Doktor Smelter stood there, out of breath, pale, and unusually grim faced.

Smelter solemnly greeted Reese, then bowed low as Karl came in the entrance hall. “I"m delighted to see that you"re well after all, Your Excellency. I arrived by a milk train. I"m here to tell you that you must come back to London. I fear for your life out here in such an isolated place. The men who would wish to kill you are fully aware of where you are hiding.”

Reese interrupted, “How did you find us?”

“Lord Merridew let it slip yesterday. He"s not the best coconspirator.”

Interesting. Reese had thought that other than exhibiting some nervous eagerness, Merridew had seemed perfectly good at lies and deception. He"d remained surprisingly steadfast and convincing as he"d talked to the police and the count"s men.

Smelter indicated the carriage and its yawning driver waiting on the gravel drive. “Come quickly, Erbgraf. We must leave by the next train.”

“I"ll fetch my coat.” Karl hurried back upstairs.

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“If you"re not ready to leave, Mr. Reese, I can make sure His Excellency is on the six-forty train, and you might take a later one. I will keep him safe.”

How had he learned Reese"s real name?

“No, I"ll be ready.”

Smelter beamed at him and looked like the jolly doctor again. “Very good, very good. I must say that reassures me. I"m not used to such goings-on. I"m grateful for the numbers.”

Reese lingered near the door, unwilling to leave Herr Smelter alone. He wondered if the man noticed he hadn"t invited him in. Where were the servants? It was past six now. He listened for sounds of the household stirring but heard nothing. It didn"t matter; he wouldn"t trust servants he didn"t know to keep an eye on the doctor anyway.

He turned his attention back to Smelter. “Where is Herr Cohen? Did he send you?” Reese asked. It made sense it would be Cohen. After all, he was the only one of the erbgraf"s entourage who"d made it clear he didn"t believe the story Reese and Lord Merridew had fed them of Karl"s injuries. He"d be the one to track them to this house.

But Smelter scowled. “That beast. He was behind that attack, I swear. Or at least knew of it. He is not to be trusted. I have no firm evidence yet, but I"m certain I can prove Cohen"s been up to no good.” He rubbed his snub little nose. “He was meeting with the most suspicious character, speaking Russian. I saw him at the hotel with the man. I believe they met several times.”

Reese remembered the man he couldn"t identify. He wondered how much more Smelter knew. “I"ve heard rumors that a Russian was involved in the bombing.”

“Exactly. That"s what I"ve heard as well.” Smelter nodded vigorously, looking pleased. “It travels quickly, this news.”

It occurred to Reese that this “news” might explain the reason whomever was behind this had picked Volkovsky as the scapegoat—to bring down Cohen, who was 136

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far too canny to meet with conspirators in public. For the first time, Reese felt more inclined to trust Cohen.

Karl appeared. His hair was tousled and bright against the dark wool collar of his coat. Reese felt his heart constrict—desire so strong seized him, he had to lay his hand on Karl"s back, just for a moment. A simple touch to reassure himself…of what? That Karl was real? Safe? His?

Karl stopped fidgeting and looked at him with knit brows, as if trying to discern Reese"s reason for the touch.

He hadn"t been trying to send a message, but he was glad Karl thought he gave one. Perhaps he"d interpret it as a warning to be cautious.

“One moment,” Karl said brightly. “I forgot something.”

“We hardly have time, Erbgraf,” Smelter said, but Karl was already hurrying toward the back of the house.

He reappeared less than a minute later pulling on gloves. That had been what he"d fetched? Pity, Reese thought. He"d rather the man had gone to the gun room for a weapon. They"d fled London without collecting Karl"s little pistol from Claridge"s, an oversight Reese regretted now.