Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [124]
‘How is Mama?’ she asked, an edge of worry in her voice.
‘Well,’ he answered, lying smoothly and holding her a little closer, ‘she’s helping a friend in bad trouble, but she’ll be home soon. Now let’s help clear the table and have dinner.’
Afterwards he sat alone in the parlour, as the silence settled over the house. Daniel and Jemima had gone up to bed. Minnie Maude had finished in the kitchen and went up as well. He heard every creak of her tread on the stairs. Far from being comforting, the absence of all voices or movement made the heaviness swirl back in again like a fog. The islands of light from the lamps on the wall created deeper shadows. He knew every surface in the room. He also knew they were all immaculately clean, as if Charlotte had been there to supervise this new girl whose only fault was that she was not Gracie. But she was good; it was only the familiarity she lacked. The papier-mâché ship made him smile. It wasn’t a trivial thing, it was very important indeed. Minnie Maude Mudway was a success.
He sat in the armchair, thinking of Jemima and her pride, Daniel’s happiness, for as long as he could. Finally he turned his mind to tomorrow, and the fact that he must go and tell Croxdale the truth about Gower, and the betrayal that might run throughout the service.
The following day at Lisson Grove was filled with the same necessary trivia. There was news from Paris, which was only vaguely disturbing. There was a definite increase in activity among the people Special Branch was watching, but if it had any meaning Pitt was unable to determine what it was. It was much the same sort of thing he might have done had Narraway been here, and he in his own job. The difference was the weight of responsibility, the decisions that he could no longer refer upwards. Now they all came to him. Other men who had previously been his equals were now obliged to report to him. They came not always for advice; more often simply so that he was aware of all the different pieces that formed the picture they had of subversion, possible treason, violence before it happened. He must know everything that might threaten the safety of Her Majesty’s realm, and her government, the peace and prosperity of Britain.
It was the morning of the day after when he finally obtained an interview with Sir Gerald Croxdale. Pitt was no further forward in understanding the extent of the treachery, but he must tell Croxdale of Gower’s death, and how it had happened. No report had come in yet, but it could not be long now.
He arrived at Whitehall late in the afternoon. The sun was still warm and the air was soft as he walked across from the park and along the street to the appropriate entrance. Several carriages passed him, the women in them wearing wide hats to protect their faces from the light, their muslin sleeves drifting in the breeze. Horse brasses winked with bright reflections, and some carriage doors carried painted family crests.
Pitt was admitted without question. Apparently the footman knew who he was. He was taken straight to Croxdale’s rooms and kept waiting only a matter of moments.
‘How are you, Pitt?’ Croxdale said warmly, rising from his seat to shake Pitt’s hand. ‘Sit down. How is it at Lisson Grove?’ His voice was pleasant, almost casual, but he was watching Pitt intently. There was a gravity in him as if he already knew that Pitt had ugly news to tell him.
It was the opening Pitt needed without having to create it himself.
‘I had hoped to tell you more, sir,’ he began. ‘But the whole episode of seeing West murdered, and following Frobisher to France was far more serious than I thought at first.’
Croxdale frowned, sitting a little more upright in his chair. ‘In what way? Have you learned what he was going to tell you?’
‘No, sir, I haven’t. At least, I am not certain. But I have a strong idea, and everything I have discovered since returning supports it, but does not provide a conclusion.’
‘Stop beating around the bush, man!’ Croxdale said impatiently. ‘What is it?’
Pitt took a deep breath. The risk must