French spy at the heart of government.
Hebden, the code breaker, had been murdered, apparently by Wardale, who went to the gallows for the crime while his best friend George Carlow, Lord Narborough, stood by, convinced of his culpability. His father, Hal knew, had never recovered from his sense of guilt over that. With their title and their lands attaindered, the Wardale family had slipped into poverty and lost contact with each other. Midgeâs mother had remarried.
And then, for some reason no-one could fathom, the old scandal had resurfaced last year in a series of attacks on thethree families that all seemed to centre on Stephen Hebden. Hal felt the cold anger sweep over him again as he recalled the night mare.
But the more they had discovered, the more people who were drawn into the mess, the less they under stood, even with the assistance of old family friend Robert Veryan, Lord Ked din ton. Although Veryan was high in government circles, even he could not explain it.
When Hal was last home on leave, Marcus had said that he suspected someone else must be involved, that it could not just be Stephano Beshaley, ruthlessly fulfilling his motherâs dying curse on the three families.
Hal shook his head, winced and focused on the letter.
My dear Carlow,
I have been in some trouble to decide what best to do in this matter, but, given that I know you better than your brother, I have decided to write to you.
You will recall the events that disturbed my wed ding in February. Despite my best efforts, my wife continues to associate with her half-brother, Beshaley. Midge, bless her, would believe the best of Beelzebub.
Damn it, this was what he feared. Had another of Beshaleyâs calling cardsâsilken ropes that recalled the execution of a peerâbeen found? If it had, danger at worst, scandal and ruined reputations at best, were to be expected.
You will for give me, I hope, for refer ring to the gossip that arose when your sister-in-law resumed her place in Society. That, and the other incidents affecting the three families, have been well-managed by those concerned. But now murmurings have come to my ears from busy-bodies who delight intelling me gossip affecting Midge. Speculation is resurfacing about the old scandal.
To be frank, there is doubt thrown on Wardaleâs guilt as the murderer. Hebden died in your fatherâs arms, out side your fatherâs own study. I will tell you this bluntly, as in your shoes I would prefer to be toldâthere are whispers at the highest level that it is suspicious that Lord Narborough did nothing to help clear Wardaleâs name, despite the fact that they were close friends.
I have tried, discreetly, to find the source of these rumours, for the respect I have for you from our days fighting together, and for the friend ship Midge has for your sister Verity. But it is like chasing a wisp of smoke.
Nothing is spoken of that links your fatherâs name with the spyâs treacheryâthat aspect of the original murder is still not common knowledge. But whispers about Wardaleâs liaison with Midgeâs mother are circulating, along with comments that your father is known to hold the strongest of views on marital infidelity. Without an understanding of the work the three men were engaged on, a puritanical aversion to adultery is no motive to be taken seriously for murder. But once spying is added to the mix, at this time when the whole country is in uproar over the renewed French menace, God knows what stories will be spun.
I hope this warning will suffice to put you on your guard to protect your father and your family. I imagine you could well do with out this news, just when the great confrontation with Napoleon is looming. I envy you the opportunity to take part in that fight.
For myself, with a happy event expected in the autumn, I only want to keep Midge safe from the poisonous webs her half-brother weaves.
Believe me, my dear Carlow,
Your
Learning to Kill: Stories