The Solitary Envoy (25 page)

Jacob took her stillness as his chance and called out to the driver, “We’ll wait here a moment, if you please.”

Erica studied the young man. Strange that she should consider him that, for Jacob Harwell was certainly four or five years older than she. To be placed in such a position of responsibility, acting on behalf of the embassy, he must also be intelligent. And no doubt from a good family, otherwise he would never have received such an appointment. But young was how she thought of him. He was evenly featured and stylishly dressed, far more than she for that matter. In any normal lady’s eyes he would be considered an excellent catch.

“Miss Erica, I hope you might permit me to pay suit to you.”

She held back a sigh. “Jacob … May I call you that?”

“Of course.” He brightened at the prospect. “I am honored.”

“This morning I have been given my first lesson in diplomacy. And perhaps I should use it here. But I feel I would fail, and then I should look foolish, especially in the eyes of one who is clearly so experienced in the ways of this world.”

“I am hardly that.”

“With your permission, I would prefer to speak honestly.”

“Nothing would please me more, Erica.”

She saw the thrill it gave him to address her thus. And it saddened her that she felt nothing in return. Why should she be destined to walk through life alone? This time the sigh did emerge.

“Jacob, I am here because when the British invaded Washington, my father was murdered and our family business burned to the ground. Perhaps you have heard of these misdeeds from Mr. Aldridge.”

His face paled in surprise and consternation. “I have heard nothing save that you are a family friend and from a highly thought-of merchant clan.”

“Once we were well thought of, certainly. But no more. Bartholomew’s Bank has stolen almost every cent our family had to its good name. That is why I am here. To try and wrest back what is owed us.” She gestured toward the printer’s front door. “Inside that office works the former officer whose men murdered my father. Mr. Aldridge has asked that I use this connection, however dark and tragic, to aid him in making contact with the group known as Dissenters. I do hope I can trust you to hold these matters in strict confidence.”

“Of course, Erica.”

“Mr. Aldridge trusts you, and so shall I.” She discovered she was twisting her fingers tightly together and forced her hands apart. “I came to England with one matter that I feared was already more than I could manage. Now Mr. Aldridge has asked my help with another, one that is clearly greater in scope and magnitude than my own family’s needs. I feel beset by responsibilities and challenges that threaten to overwhelm me.”

The young man straightened in his seat, as though rising to attention. “I would be most honored to assist you in any way possible.”

“But in what capacity, Jacob? You see, I am trying my utter best to be completely honest with you. My life is set upon a course that seems fraught with peril. If I succeed, I must return and aid my family in rebuilding what was lost. If I fail, I must do the same. I am here but for a brief instant. Then I must depart for Washington. Whether I succeed or fail, I must turn from this challenge to another.”

The ardor in his gaze gradually faded. “You are refusing my entreaty?”

“I am saying that to do anything else would be an utter dishonesty. My family depends upon me. My father is gone. My brother is the finest man in the world, but he needs my help. My mother …” She swallowed down a sudden longing for all she had left behind, both in distance and in time. “I love them very much, you see.”

“I understand,” he said stiffly.

“I fear you do not.”

“No, Erica.” He stopped, then corrected himself. “Miss Langston. I understand completely.”

She shook her head. All she could see from his expression and his tone was that he had been hurt by her rejection. A diplomat she would most certainly never be. She moved for the door. “This should not take long.”

Jacob recovered enough to ask, “Shall I accompany you?”

“Thank you, Jacob, but I think I will be fine on my own.”

She stepped from the carriage and passed across the walk. A bell chimed as she pushed open the lead-paned door.

“Help you, miss?”

She recalled the servant as the driver of Gareth’s carriage who had helped with her valises the day of her arrival. The man was a giant, standing head and shoulders above Erica, with smudges of ink from the toes of his boots to his nose.

A light of recognition dawned in his eyes as well. “The lady from Washington, isn’t it?”

“Yes indeed, sir.”

“Then you must be after the major.”

“Is he here?”

A voice from the balcony overhead called down, “That’s all right, Daniel.”

Hobnailed boots beat a rapid tattoo down the wooden staircase. Gareth Powers wore well-cut breeches and a starched white shirt opened at the collar. His sleeves were rolled back to reveal muscled forearms and ink-stained hands. He did not realize he still held his quill until he offered his hand to her.

“Forgive me, Miss Langston. I was not expecting visitors.”

“I apologize for not sending word in advance of my coming,” she replied formally.

“Not at all. I am delighted to see you.”

“Might I please have a word in private?”

“Of course.” He motioned to the stairs. “Would you care to join me on the balcony? Daniel, pop around to the shop and see if they can brew us a fresh pot. Do you like tea, Miss Langston?”

“I don’t want to be any bother.”

“No bother at all. Tea for two, Daniel. Oh, and some cakes if she’s got any fresh. Do you like fruitcake, Miss Langston?”

The big man offered, “The shopkeeper’s wife is a devilish fine baker, miss.”

“No, really, I don’t wish—”

“Cakes for all, Daniel. See if the men wouldn’t like to down arms and have tea as well.” He made a sweeping motion with his quill. “Let us all take a moment’s respite.”

“Right you are, sir. I’ll have this lot cleared out in a flash.”

Erica allowed herself to be seated by the balcony’s only table. Gareth Powers gathered up the clutter of quills and paring knife and papers and blotter and dusting powder and newssheets. The downstairs racket gradually grew silent. “I did not wish to bring your entire establishment to a standstill.”

“To be perfectly frank, Miss Langston, my men are glad for the breather. We push them rather hard around here.”

“So I am led to understand.” Something in the way he spoke caused her to say, “Your men.”

“Yes?”

“You said that as a military man would.”

“Ah. Yes. Well. I suppose I did. And for good reason. Many of them came from my old regiment. Like old Daniel. He was one of my best sergeants.”

The big man chose that moment to clump up the stairs.

“Aye, miss. The major saved me from Squatters Fields. Though I don’t suppose you know what I’m talking about.”

“I was there just this morning.”

Both men took great interest in that fact. “Were you indeed,” Gareth murmured.

But Daniel was not finished. “When old Georgie finished using us to crop the Frenchies, he let us go without a by-yourleave. Only way we managed to make it home was because the major here hired a ship with coin from his own pocket.”

Gareth waved away his friend’s speech. “No more, Daniel.”

Daniel settled the teapot and saucers and cups upon the table. “The baker’s got a fresh apple cobbler just ready to come out of the oven.” As he started back for the stairs, he added over his shoulder, “They don’t make ’em any better than the major, miss. You can bank on that.”

Gareth puttered about with the cups and pot, clearly embarrassed by his friend’s praise. “How do you take your tea, Miss Erica?”

“This is fine, thank you.”

“It’s not the Berkeley Street Confectionery, but …” He stopped because of the smile that bloomed upon Erica’s face. “Yes?”

“It’s just that I was invited there this afternoon.”

Gareth paused in the midst of pouring his own cup. “You gave up tea and cakes to visit me? Here?”

“Here is fine, sir. I assure you.”

“It is anything but. It is a squalid little shop that reeks of ink and newsprint and hard work.”

“Sir, I am the daughter of a merchant and raised on the fragrances of trade and honest labor.”

“Ah yes. Of course.” His features darkened. “How could I forget.”

“I did not come to cause further discomfort, sir.” She glanced around, uncertain of how to proceed. “I shall never be a diplomat. Never in all my days.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, today I have been given a lesson in diplomacy. And no doubt I should use it now. But I know not how.”

“Why should not honesty and directness serve you just as well?”

“No, no, I just tried that also, and it failed me miserably.”

“When was that?”

“Just outside of your establishment. In the carriage.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, and there is no reason you should. Or any reason why I should be discussing it.”

“But I would very much like to hear.”

“Would you?” She was insane to speak thus. After all, this man was essentially a stranger, and she still thought of him as her family’s enemy. But somehow she could not keep herself from recounting the conversation with Jacob. She finished with, “I know there is a better way to say what I did.”

“No, there is not.”

“But he was so disappointed with me.”

“Of course he was.” Gareth Powers toyed with the handle on his cup. “But if he is half the man you describe him as, he shall come around. In time, his disappointment will be replaced with respect. And because you have treated him so honestly, he may well become both a staunch supporter and a friend. You can never have too many friends, Miss Erica.”

“Yes. I have heard that before.” She sipped from her cup. “Forgive me. I should never have spoken thusly. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Your words were a gift. Shall I confess something to you as well? I loathe the empty chatter that passes for polite conversation in most circles. As a result I am considered oafish and uncouth. My brother’s wife despairs of my ever marrying, for I insist upon discussing at every turn such matters as this business and my writing and even the world of politics. Which of course is frowned upon by proper society.”

Erica could scarcely believe this was happening. Here she was, seated across from a man who logically should remain her lifelong enemy. Yet she spoke with him as comfortably as she would a dear friend. She studied him. Some might not consider him handsome, with his strong, almost taut features. Even when seated he held himself with the precision of a bird of prey. His eyes, even downcast, were ever watchful.

“I should imagine,” she said carefully, “that you are a writer of cutting intelligence.”

“Have you ever read one of my pamphlets?”

“I fear not.”

“Would you care to?”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” And, to her astonishment, she meant it sincerely.

He sprang from his chair. “A moment!”

He bounded down the stairs, and Erica could hear his hobnailed boots cross the plank flooring. He stopped and began muttering, “No, this is old news. And certainly not this one; the writing was crass and ill-informed. No, no, this won’t do at all.”

She looked down from the balcony. “Sir, Mr. Powers, I assure you—”

“Miss Langston, I really must find one that … No, the first paragraph is horribly penned. Perhaps …”

“Mr. Powers,” she said, louder this time.

“Yes?”

“Any of them will do, I assure you. They will be fine.”

His footsteps were far slower upon their return. “Here you are, then.”

“You must release them if I am to read even the first words.” When his fingers unclutched the papers, she said, “Thank you kindly. I look forward to reading them.”

He sat down across from her. “Might I ask what brought you here today?”

“I fear that to say anything would require a diplomacy I do not have.”

“Then let us discard diplomacy entirely.”

“Very well. The embassy wishes for me to act as its envoy and make contact with the Dissenters. Can you help me?”

“Of course.”

She stared at him. “Truly?”

“It would be my distinct pleasure. There is a meeting the day after tomorrow at seven in the evening. Can you come?”

“I suppose … yes, of course I can.”

“I shall come round and fetch you.”

“No, Mr. Aldridge, well …”

“Of course. Forgive me. It would do none of us any good were I to be seen at the embassy.” He rose and scrabbled about for pen and ink and paper. He wrote busily, then handed the paper to her. “Give that to your driver.”

“Very well.” She rose. “Thank you so much for the tea, Mr. Powers.”

“Please, call me Gareth.”

She hesitated, then tasted the word. “Gareth, then. And you may call me Erica. Thank you very much.”

“Daniel will be disappointed that you did not remain for the apple cobbler.”

“Perhaps another time.” Erica descended the stairs and crossed to the front door. There she stopped.

“Was there something more?” Gareth asked as he followed her.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Yes, there was. The other day you asked for my forgiveness.”

The wound opened anew at the center of his gaze. He said dully, “Indeed so.”

She offered him her hand. “Gareth, it is I who must ask your forgiveness for my wrongful accusation.”

She did not wait for him to reply or to open the door, which was just as well, as Gareth Powers appeared frozen to the spot. Erica hastened across the walk and into the carriage, then turned her face to the opposite window. She did not want him to see her sudden tears.

Chapter 19

The next day flashed by in a stream of hurried consultations, reviews of documents, and two further visits to the building site. In the afternoon Jacob Harwell was assigned to accompany Erica to pay the final three overdue accounts. She pretended not to see his glum countenance and chattered as cheerfully as she would with a good friend. She returned to the embassy weary from the strain but satisfied she had given it her very best effort.