Lammas Night (30 page)

“That sounds intriguing except for one small detail,” Graham countered. “Other than a few rare exceptions, you do not know any of these people, and it's unlikely that you would have become aware of them through normal channels. What makes you think even a royal duke could single them out without arousing some kind of suspicion?”

“Suspicion of what?” William returned. “It's you and Lady Selwyn who've been approaching them so far. No one could have any notion of my connection with you in that context. I could say that I wish to recognize some of the small, generally unnoticed contributions that people are making to the war effort. Everyone is doing something, after all. You could vet them in advance and come up with a legitimate justification for each of them. For that matter, I could do several of these gatherings as blinds, before the real one, just to further confuse the issue—intimate little gatherings of patriotic people under royal patronage. Now what is dangerous or suspicious about that?”

“Nothing so far. Go on.”

“Very well. Once they're there, I tell them that I've been asked to gather them on a matter of national security—and if a threatened invasion isn't that, I certainly don't know what is. I then state that I have been told that this is a matter of extreme delicacy, that even I do not know what is going to be said. That I have been advised not even to be present because of the sensitivity of my position near the Throne. I then turn them over to you and Lady Selwyn and leave the room. By the way, I wear my full Garter accoutrements to greet them, so that that part of the significance can't possibly be lost on them. Now why won't that work?”

Graham shook his head. “Because I won't let you do it, for starters. The beginning part is fine—brilliant, in fact. But you'd still be involved up to your royal eyebrows, and you're still the King's brother even if you try to function in a private capacity. Everything I said before still holds. To reiterate just one of the more obvious dangers, suppose someone talked afterwards?”

The prince drew a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, temporarily stymied, then stared out across the river for rather a long time. By the look on his face, Graham knew he still had not given up.

“You said twenty to thirty people could be involved,” William said, glancing at him again. “How many groups do they represent?”

Graham did a quick mental count. “Perhaps fifteen or so. I'm allowing two representatives per group, but they wouldn't necessarily all send two.”

“Hmmm. I should think it might be cut to one per group. These groups—they're all—esoteric fraternities of some sort, like this chap you talked with this morning?”

“More or less, I suppose, but—”

“Like Freemasons? I mean, do they swear oaths of secrecy?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Suppose you were to bind them all by a common oath, then?—not to speak of what they saw and heard once they left the room.”

“They wouldn't—”

“
Will
you let me finish? It isn't as if we'd be asking them to violate previous oaths. They'd be free to tell their own people what they need to know to get the job done. But you and I, for example, are in sensitive positions. They'd understand that our identities must remain confidential. I'll bet that Howard and Hatton even wore masks.”

Graham's head shot around to stare at the prince. How had he known that? Graham was sure he had not mentioned it.

“As for the others,” William went blithely on, “well, it isn't as if we're asking them to do anything they wouldn't do, anyway, are we, for God's sake? All we're asking is that they do whatever they do all at the same time. What's so awful about that?”

“Put that way, you make it sound so simple,” Graham murmured, wishing that it were.

“Implying that it isn't?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Graham sighed. “Listen, you've made a most generous offer, and I shouldn't want you to think I'm not grateful. But I simply can't let you get involved any further. You already know more than you should. When I think of the danger I've exposed you to—”

“Now wait just a moment! You didn't exactly force me into anything,” William snapped. “As I recall, I've resorted to some rather compelling coercion along the way.”

“Yes, and I should have been more firm about saying no despite that. I won't be a party to that happening again. Whatever arguments you care to offer, it's too dangerous. You can't do it.”

“Can you, without me?”

Graham had no ready answer for that, though he continued to protest. They argued more in the car when it began to rain. The argument continued all the way back to St. James' Park, ceasing only for their passage through the carpeted corridors. When they gained the relative privacy of Graham's office, William would have started in again, but Graham flatly forbade it. In desperation, Graham rang Alix and asked if he might bring the prince to her. Perhaps it was his turn to pull rank and resort to compelling coercion.

A few hours later, the three of them were sitting around the library table at Oakwood, making a civilized pretense of afternoon tea while Graham outlined the prince's offer fairly but in tones that left no doubt of his disapproval. William stubbornly insisted that they could not succeed without him. Alix appeared to be maintaining a neutral stance, though her glance at Graham when they first arrived spoke volumes about what she thought of his bringing the prince to her home on such short notice.

“You do realize, I hope, that you've put us in a very awkward position, sir,” she said, lacing her fingers together on the polished oak. “You've presented us with the first possibly workable plan I've heard to accomplish what we need to accomplish. Unfortunately, because of who you are, it would be almost impossible to use what you've presented.”

William had been toying with a silver teaspoon while Graham concluded his synopsis and Alix spoke, but now he set it aside and folded his hands to match hers. By the look on his face, Graham suspected he was still a bit in awe of Alix—which was exactly what Graham had hoped for. If William thought Graham could be inflexible or stubborn, he had yet to see how resolute a woman like Alix could be, functioning in her official capacity as she was now.

“I decline to accept what you've just said, for two reasons,” William finally said, obviously choosing his words carefully. “First of all, you've admitted that it's a possibly workable plan and that you haven't any other. Second, you've said that it would be
almost
impossible to use me. You're far too careful a woman to use that word unless it's precisely what you meant—which at very least means that you haven't made up your mind yet. What else can I say to convince you?”

Graham glanced at Alix in question. Was that what William had read from her words? Oddly enough, she did not seem to be denying what had just been said. She eyed the prince coolly, taking his measure just as surely as if she had laid the scarlet cords against his body in sacred ritual. To Graham's surprise, William did not back down from her gaze. After a moment, Alix lowered her eyes under demure lashes.

“The plan is basically sound,” she conceded. “What concerns me most at this point is how to protect your public image—and, by association, that of the King. Gray is perfectly correct to fear for your reputation.”

“I agree. That is the weakest link,” William replied.

“Good. We have at least one point of accord, then,” she said. “Another possibility has also just occurred to me. You mentioned the taking of a common oath of secrecy. They would never accept that suggestion if it came from Gray or even from me, but they might accept it from someone else among them. I have in mind Dame Emma, Gray. She's respected by everyone, even if some of them fear her.”

“Who's Dame Emma?” William asked.

Graham poured himself another cup of tea. “I mentioned her before, though not by name. She's the lady in Hampshire who's promised her help. She commands six other groups besides her own, and more will come if she asks.”

“I do recall, now that you mention it,” William murmured. “Will she do it, though?”

“Ask the oath?” Alix nodded. “I think so. Her tradition and ours have close ties. As I said, she has already agreed to help as best she can, even if the others won't.”

“Then you can let me help, too,” William said, a faint grin lifting his mouth. “There's no reason you can't.”

Alix pushed her teacup slightly to one side and returned his gaze evenly.

“There is at least one that I can think of immediately, which has not been mentioned so far,” she said. “If we were to agree to this—and I stress the word
if
—if we were to agree to this, you would have to accept certain ground rules from the very beginning.”

“Name them.”

“Number one—and I will be blunt. Though it is the man in black who provides the public face, it is the priestess who ultimately commands. I am she. If you truly wish to be a part of our endeavor, it must be on my terms. I am not arbitrary, but the final responsibility is mine, and so, therefore, must be the final decisions. Are you willing to abide by that?”

His lips parted as if to raise a question, but then he ducked his head in a nod.

“I accept it.”

“But?”

“It was not a reservation, my lady,” he replied, meeting her eyes less confidently. “Some of your—terminology is unfamiliar. The crux of the matter is that you are in charge. Gray told me that before Buckland. I would not contest it.”

She inclined her head regally, more like a queen receiving a subject than a countess acknowledging a prince's acquiescence. Graham watched William take it without a flicker of resentment. Perhaps Alix was right. Perhaps the prince did belong among them. Graham's heart had told him that almost from the beginning, though his head had a dozen valid reasons why it should not be.

“Second,” Alix went on. “After myself, my husband and Gray hold authority, in that order, and then the brigadier. I would expect directions from any of them to be taken as if coming from me.”

“I do not question that,” William said. “However, may I assume that, wherever possible, decisions regarding myself would be made by joint consensus—that I would be allowed to give my opinion before a decision is made? In support of this, I point out, that if I had not argued with Gray, we would not now be having this discussion, since neither of us would have reached this conclusion on our own.”

“A point well taken,” Alix agreed. “However, I reserve the right to be arbitrary if I feel the occasion warrants it. I would expect, for example, that if you have been told to sit still and do and say nothing, you would do precisely that. I would
not
expect another repeat of Buckland.”

“No harm was done—”

“
Fortunately
not,” Alix said firmly. “However, that result can hardly be attributed to anything but fool's luck. You know very little as yet. You—or Gray—might not be so lucky next time. It could have been very dangerous.”

William bowed his head, but Graham could sense the thin edge of resistance in the set of his hands on the chair arms.

“I apologize—to both of you. It will not happen again.”

“Very well.” She glanced at Graham, then returned her attention to the prince. “There is one other thing of which you should be aware before you make any further commitment. I doubt that even Gray has told you this.”

The prince's eyes flicked to Graham in question, but Graham only shrugged.

“Your offer of assistance has come as no great surprise, at least to me, even though none of us knew the form it would take. It has been foretold in the cards for several weeks now. I suspect that may have been at least one factor in Gray's decision to let you come to Buckland with him. Am I right, Gray?”

Graham sighed and gave a curt nod.

“Your precise role has not been clear,” Alix went on, “and still is not, but there is little doubt that you are fated to be involved in what is unfolding. The question now is to what extent?”

With a nervous gesture, William reached into his coat for a cigarette, glancing at Graham.

“You never said anything about cards, Gray. What is she talking about?”

“The tarot cards,” Graham replied. “An ancient form of divination. Modern playing cards derive from them. One asks a question while shuffling the deck, then lays out a certain number of cards in one of several patterns. Different positions represent different aspects of the answer—time factors, persons involved, strong and weak points.…”

While he explained, Alix had brought out her deck and fanned it face up, selecting some of the cards that had appeared in previous readings. When he had finished, she reviewed a few of their names and meanings. William studied the Knight of Wands the longest, shaking his head as she buried it in the deck and began gathering them up.

“I'm sorry if I appear skeptical,” he said, flicking ash into an ash tray, “but—fortune telling, for God's sake! It just seems so—so medieval!”

“With respect, sir, your very title is medieval,” Alix purred. “Does that make it suspect?”

Graham suppressed a grimace, half expecting a royal explosion, but to his surprise, William merely grinned.

“
Touché
, madame. But really—”

As he gestured with his cigarette, Alix slapped the deck down in front of him with a smile that cut him off in mid-sentence. Graham knew the expression well and almost pitied William for his naïveté. Alix would pull no tricks out of hats or cards out of packs, but the challenge had been offered. Graham had no doubt the cards would respond.

“Go ahead and shuffle them,” Alix said, watching the prince with faint amusement. “I'll never touch them, nor will Gray. I think the question in all of our minds is clear enough, but concentrate on it, anyway, as you handle the cards. Gray, may I see you a moment?”