“Perhaps,” said Arch, “but Miss Vale is the one he has.”
Renforth’s gaze moved to him. “Have you verified that he is pilfering funds?”
Calmly, Arch met his Colonel’s eye. “I am not yet certain, but it appears to be so.”
“You are certain, though, Miss Vale was unaware?” Stuart asked.
“Yes,” Arch said at once, with more force than he intended.
Fielding leaned forward. “Then she must be told.”
Renforth said, “Not yet.”
Baines threw up both hands. “Not yet? Are we to wait until Thistlewood starts measuring heads for pikes?”
“We wait,” said Renforth, “until we know enough to act without losing more than we gain.”
“We know that Kendall sits among men who are traitors. We do not yet know whether he is their fellow, their adviser, their opportunist, or their intended betrayer in turn. We must have proof.”
Baines muttered something impious and subsided.
Arch returned to his chair but did not sit down. “He may be the mastermind.”
“Precisely, and they may act quickly and decisively.”
Arch grimaced. No longer were they dealing with mere pamphlets and speeches, but movement, timing and access.
Fielding said, “If they truly mean to strike at Cabinet ministers, the opportunity will be of short duration.”
Renforth looked at Baines. “Were dates discussed?”
“Not fixed ones, but it will be soon. They argued over whether they had enough men yet, but feel the country is ripe for an overthrowing of this government.”
Stuart gave a grim little smile. “Every conspiracy imagines the country is waiting breathlessly to join it.”
“Most of the country is waiting breathlessly for bread,” Fielding said.
“That is precisely why these men recruit from hunger,” Stuart replied.
Renforth rose then, and the room responded to the movement like a company hearing the command to stand ready. “We divide the problem,” he said. “Stuart, you take Thistlewood and the outer circle. Names, habits, meeting-places, any known contacts with printers or arms. Fielding, the tavern and the servants there—discover who rents the room, who pays, who sees the men come and go. Baines, you remain on Kendall. Infiltrate the group if you can.”
Baines grinned wolfishly. “Gladly.”
Renforth turned to Arch. “You will remain with Miss Vale. You will not yet tell her everything.”
Arch held his gaze. “If she is being used to fund assassinations?—”
“If she is being used,” said Renforth, “then we must know how far the use has already gone before we force the issue. She may bolt towards the one man whom she has known for many years.”
Arch looked away for a moment. The truth of it stung because it was so plainly possible.
Would Miss Vale run from suspicion towards Kendall—towards the very familiarity of him? Arch could not honestly say she would not.
Renforth continued, more quietly, “You may warn her in general terms if necessary. You may urge caution. Until we have more than this, however, you will not force a choice she is not prepared to make.”
Arch took a breath. “Understood.”
Baines, who never bore solemnity long, said, “Arch, the woman is not a fool.”
