Their teasing comments were typical of the dinner conversation. The food was excellent and the discussions even better. Simon couldn’t remember a more enjoyable meal.
He and Hawkins discussed the sailing life and memories of Hawkins’s friendship with Lucas; Athena and Callie discussed life in the war zones they’d known; and Gordon told hilarious and hopefully exaggerated stories of his traveling days.
Kirkland listened to everything with interest, probably taking mental notes. Simon knew the other man was something of a legend in the intelligence gathering community, and part of his success was due to his genius for collecting information.
As the meal came to an end, Kirkland said, “Before we temporarily separate, I have a question for you since collectively your experience is vast. I’m sure you’ve all heard rumors and speculation that the emperor will escape from Elba and return to France to reclaim his throne. What do you think will happen?”
The long silence that followed was broken by Athena Masterson. “I think that’s very likely,” she said slowly. “I recently made the acquaintance of several French soldiers in San Gabriel. Some are tired of war and want only the chance to build a peaceful life, but others know only war and have nothing else to go back to. Napoleon is still worshipped by many of his soldiers. If he returns and raises his banner, many will march again.”
“Very true,” Simon agreed. “The new Bourbon king has not been endearing himself to his subjects and it’s said that Napoleon is growing bored with his miniature kingdom on Elba. If he can escape, he will.”
“And sooner or later, hewillescape because there are so many people willing to support him,” Masterson said soberly. “Enough of the French people will welcome him back to trigger new wars.”
“Old wars continued.” Simon could think of many ways the situation might play out, none of them good. “He should have been exiled to a far more distant place. Botany Bay, perhaps. Elba is much too close to Italy and France.”
Kirkland nodded, his expression grave. “That confirms my own fears. In the long run he can’t defeat the Allies, but he can devastate the Continent again before he is defeated once and for all.”
The new silence was broken when Lady Kirkland rose to her feet. “Now that gloom has been evoked, it’s the traditional time for the ladies to withdraw to sip tea and for the gentlemen to gossip over their port. I do hope you’ll join us soon, sirs.”
“We don’t gossip,” her husband protested as he stood. “We exchange valuable information and insights.”
“As you say, my dear,” she said sweetly.
The Kirklands exchanged private smiles before Lord Kirkland said, “Duval and Madame Duval, will you join me for a few minutes?”
“Of course,” Simon said, and wondered warily what Kirkland wanted.
Chapter 6
Kirkland led his guests into his comfortable private study, then lit lamps as they settled onto a small sofa opposite the desk. Suzanne studied Kirkland carefully, a habit that had been crucial for survival in the harem. She sensed that he was not a cruel man, but that he could be ruthless in pursuing goals he considered vital. Stopping Napoleon from reclaiming his throne would surely be in that category.
Though she concealed her nervousness, Simon’s calm was real, she thought. He and Kirkland came from the same world and understood each other. “What do you want to know, Kirkland?” he asked. “I don’t have any special insights into what Napoleon might do.”
“No, but you do have entrée into the French émigré community if you choose to use it,” Kirkland replied. “After all, it’s possible that you are the Comte de Chambron.”
Simon’s expression was pained when he glanced at Suzanne. “So many of our relatives have died?”
“It’s hard to be sure. As the Revolution shattered the old order, French aristocrats fled in all directions. Many moved to Britain and even Canada, while others fled east into Russia. It’s hard to get information this far away.”
“Then I shall hope I have healthy cousins living in Russia.”
“If so, we should find out eventually,” Suzanne said quietly. “But I suspect that at the moment, Lord Kirkland is hoping to use your possible rank.”
“Exactly so,” Kirkland said. “As a possible French count who served with distinction in the British army in the fight against Napoleon, you would be welcomed into the highest London émigré circles.”
“I am not French enough to be the Comte de Chambron,” Simon said dryly. “Why would Iwantto be welcomed by aristocratic émigrés?”
“The London émigré community may contain highly placed Bonapartist spies or informers who have been passing information to the emperor’s supporters in France,” Kirkland said succinctly. “That’s not as critical now as it was several years ago when the fighting was more intense, but it would be useful to identify any such people. Particularly if they might have some knowledge of Napoleon’s plans.”
“And you would like me to turn spy again to investigate them,” Simon said flatly.
“You wouldn’t be a spy, merely a trained observer. If you’re willing, the information could be useful.” Kirkland’s gaze moved to Suzanne. Uncannily perceptive, he said, “I’ve heard that you were not treated well by your countrymen when you recently arrived in London.”
Her face turned hot with shame. “Your information is correct. Does everyone in England know of my ruination?”
Simon touched her hand. “You were not ruined,” he said softly. “You have become strong as tempered Damascus steel.”
She gazed into his clear, light eyes and almost wept as she saw his belief in her. She had thought of her captivity as a trial she’d barely survived, not as an experience that had made her stronger and better.
