Ashworth Hall - Anne Perry [3]
Pitt must not allow himself to imagine Greville mistook him for one of his own station just because he sat behind this elegant desk with its green leather inlay. His predecessor, Micah Drummond, had been a gentleman, ex-army. Cornwallis most certainly was also, if perhaps of a lesser standing. He had risen through merit on active service. Did Greville think Pitt of the same mold? It was a flattering thought … but a delusion. He wanted Pitt in order to protect his conference without it being apparent.
“And you believe this threat to you is in connection with your work with the Irish Conference?” Pitt said aloud.
“I know it,” Greville replied, watching Pitt closely. “There are many factors and individuals who would not wish us to succeed. That is surely clear enough in Denbigh’s murder?”
“You are threatened by letter?” Pitt asked.
“Yes, from time to time.” Greville shrugged very slightly, a gesture of dismissal. Giving it words seemed to have left him less isolated. He relaxed a little. “One expects a certain amount of opposition, even threats. Usually they are of no consequence at all. Had there not been an actual attempt, I should have ignored them as someone simply airing their feelings in a particularly distasteful manner, if not uncommon. The Irish Problem, as you must know, is one of a violent nature.”
That was an understatement of phenomenal proportions. It was impossible to estimate the number of people who had died in battles, riots, famine and murder in a greater or lesser way connected with the problem of Irish history. Pitt was fairly familiar with the Murphy riots in the north of England, where a rabid Protestant had traveled around the countryside stirring up fanatical anti-Catholic feeling which had ended in looting, fires, the destruction of whole streets of houses, and several deaths.
“You had better take someone thoroughly reliable with you,” Cornwallis said gravely. “Naturally we will have men around the hall and the village, posing as gamekeepers or farm laborers and so on. But you should have someone inside also.”
“Another guest?” Pitt said in surprise.
Cornwallis smiled bleakly. “A servant. It is quite usual when going to a country house party to take two or three of your own servants. We shall simply send one of our best men as your valet. Who would you suggest—Tellman? I know you do not particularly like him, but he is intelligent, observant and not without physical courage, if it should be needed. Please God, it will not.”
Pitt would have preferred someone else be sent to Ash worth Hall, but he realized that by virtue of his relationship to the Radleys he was uniquely suited. However, he could at least leave Tellman, his best man, in charge of the Denbigh investigation. He did not actually dislike Tellman, not now that he knew him rather better, but he thought Tellman still disliked him. Tellman had made no secret of the fact that he resented Pitt’s promotion. Pitt was from the ranks, no better than the others. He should not aspire to ape his superiors, let alone try to be one. Positions like that previously held by Micah Drummond were for gentlemen. Rank was the only acceptable qualification for authority. Ambition was not, and Tellman thought that Pitt was ambitious.
He was mistaken. Pitt would have remained where he was and been perfectly happy had he not a family who deserved of him the best he could provide. But that was none of Tellman’s concern.
“I cannot imagine Tellman acquiescing to being a valet,” he said to Cornwallis. “Even for a week! Least of all to me … Can I tell him about Denbigh?”
A very powerful humor flashed in Cornwallis’s dark eyes, but he kept it from his mouth.
“Not yet. I am sure when Mr. Greville explains to him the importance of your mission he will be happy to do it to the best of his ability. You will have to have patience with his inexperience as a valet.”
Pitt forbore from replying.
“Who are the guests to be?” he asked instead.
Greville leaned back in his chair again and crossed his legs. He did not need to