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Authors: Michael Pryor

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Fifteen

A
T DINNER THE NEXT DAY, IN ACCORDANCE WITH A
Fitzwilliam tradition that went back to when
Lady Rose first joined the family, it was her turn to sit at
the head of the table. Sir Darius sat at the other end.
George and Aubrey were on one side, Caroline on the
other, with Lady Maria next to her.

Naturally, Aubrey was pleased that his mother had
asked Caroline. As far as he was concerned, she made
any occasion more delightful. The dinner also gave him
a chance to put aside his thinking about the dizzyingly
complex situation they'd found themselves in with
Craddock, Tallis, Manfred and Brandt.

Lady Rose didn't take long before her opening salvo.
Soup had barely arrived before she pointed her butter
knife at Aubrey – but addressed Caroline. 'I think you're
far too forgiving, Caroline, consenting to associate with
Aubrey again.'

'Thank you, Lady Rose. I do wonder about myself,
sometimes.'

'It's all right, Mother,' Aubrey said. 'We've worked
things out.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Sir Darius said. 'And it appears as
if the arrangements are amicable, at least. Now, dear,
I think we should move on. How are things at the
museum?'

Lady Rose attacked her roll. 'Darius, that's the sort of
question you only ask when you want to divert matters,
and I'm going to make you suffer by telling you.'

So through the soup and almost until the end of
the salad course, Lady Rose entertained the table with
her scurrilous opinions of the board of the museum and
most of the directors. 'Tin-pot dictators, all of them,' she
finished. 'They wouldn't know a specimen if it jumped
up and bit them. And with the lack of funds spent in
conserving some of our pieces, I wouldn't be surprised
if that actually happened.'

'It's never a place for a lady,' Lady Maria said severely,
'and especially not a Fitzwilliam lady.'

'Thank you, Lady Maria,' Lady Rose said. 'I agree. It
needs much more money spent on it before it would be
fit. Darling,' she said down the length of the table, 'how
is that bill going, the one with an increased budget for
the Albion Museum?'

'I wouldn't know, dear. Arm's length, that sort of
thing. I put it Marlow's way. The museum falls under his
purview.'

Lady Maria was vexed at how she'd been outflanked.
She looked as if she'd been on the verge of winning a
point, but the long rally had somehow turned around.
Of course, the signs of her irritation were minute, and
only someone as long accustomed to her as Aubrey could
see exasperation in the way she dabbed twice at each
corner of her mouth with her napkin. A slight narrowing
of her eyes, however, indicated she had something up
her sleeve.

'And the Rashid Stone, Darius,' she said. 'I see posters
around the city, saying that the stone is on display for the
last time before it leaves Albion for good. Surely you're
not really letting the Holmlanders claim it.'

Sir Darius grimaced. Lady Rose bridled. Aubrey was
prepared to grant Lady Maria a point for a very fine serve.

'It's appalling,' Lady Rose said, finally managing to put
together words. 'The museum has had the Rashid Stone
for a hundred and fifty years. And now the Holmlanders
want it back?'

Aubrey had seen the Rashid Stone, years ago. Covered
with indecipherable inscriptions, it was an object of great
antiquity, and great mystery.

'It belongs to them,' Sir Darius said. 'At least, under
international law. It was taken from Aigyptos, which is a
Holmland colony.'

'Colony,' Caroline said. 'Isn't that a polite word for a
place that has been taken over and exploited by bullies?'

'Colonialisation is a difficult issue. Albion has colonies.
I hope we've treated our colonies better than some other
countries have.'

'The Holmlanders looted the Rashid Stone from
Aigyptos,' Lady Rose said. 'One of our warships happened
to intercept the Holmlander carrying it. Ever since, the
museum has taken care of the stone. Custodians, rather
than owners.'

'Waiting to give the stone back to Aigyptos?' Caroline
said archly.

'The political situation is awkward,' Sir Darius said.
'Holmland rules Aigyptos. If we give the stone back
to the Aigyptian governor, Holmland would simply
claim it.'

'Why do they want it so badly?' Aubrey said. 'And why
now?'

'The Elektor's birthday. Its return is meant to be part
of the celebrations, along with unveiling a host of battleships,
things like that.'

Lady Rose had one last broadside. 'We could give the
Rashid Stone to the Sultan of Memphis. He's the rightful
ruler of Aigyptos. And a fine antiquarian.'

'Holmland doesn't recognise the Sultan. He's a rebel
leader according to them. If we deal with him, it would
be a decidedly unfriendly act. We're doing our best not
to provide Fisherberg with any excuse for hostility.'

This was a decided dampener. Sir Darius realised it and
rallied. 'University, George. It's treating you well?'

'It's busy times, Sir Darius. Very busy.'

'Not too busy to write to that charming Sophie
Delroy, I hope? You and she seemed to be getting on so
well at the embassy ball in Lutetia.'

Aubrey knew George hadn't written to Sophie for
some time, so he swooped in. 'George has been involved
in the university paper, the
Luna
.'

George shot Aubrey a thankful look, then launched
into a description of his journalistic endeavours. The discussion
that this prompted went on until dessert, with
much cutting and thrusting over public opinion, newspaper
ethics and state secrets. The term 'muck-raking'
was used freely, as was 'freedom of the press'. A scoreless
draw, the arguing was enjoyed by all.

As it wound down, Aubrey took the chance to drop in
something that had been on his mind. 'I met someone
who knows you, Mother. She said to say hello. Professor
Mansfield.'

'Anne Mansfield?' Lady Rose said, smiling. 'I haven't
seen her in ages. Brilliant woman. You remember her,
don't you, Darius?'

Sir Darius patted his mouth with a napkin. 'Of course.
Remarkable person. Wonderful dancer.'

Lady Rose lifted an eyebrow, but went on. 'I've never
known a better linguist. She's working with Ancient
Languages now, isn't she?'

This led Aubrey into the story of his adding Ancient
Languages to his studies, to the interest and approval of
both his parents, for which he was relieved.

Politics, however, was the topic for dessert, which
Aubrey was glad to see was a lemon tart. Somehow
it wouldn't be right to have anything too sweet with
politics as an accompaniment.

It was Caroline who asked the leading question this
time. 'Tell us, Sir Darius, what exactly is the situation
with Holmland at the moment?'

Sir Darius smiled. 'Do you want the answer I give to
journalists, the answer I give in Parliament, or the answer
I give in Cabinet?'

'Pish, Darius,' Lady Rose said. 'Tell them the truth,
instead. They're well on the way to being grown up.'

Sir Darius turned to his wife. 'Did you say "pish", my
dear?'

She waved a hand and did something rare for her. She
blushed. 'I didn't notice.' She sipped from a glass of water.
'It must be the Mannerford I'm reading.'

'Re-reading,' Sir Darius corrected. 'Things are difficult
at work, then?'

Caroline was frowning, baffled. Aubrey leaned across
the table with a stage whisper. 'My mother has a
fondness for the novels of Mrs Mannerford. She has
them all.'

'Harmless fun,' Lady Rose said. 'Vastly entertaining.'

'I don't suppose Mrs Mannerford has a huge Holmland
readership, though,' George said.

'Well done, George,' Sir Darius said, 'a deft nudge for
all of us back toward the topic. Although I do love a
diversion.' He sat back in his chair and steepled his
fingers. 'Holmland is extraordinarily active, in a way that
does not bode well. It is building its fleet, adding to its
infantry, giving every appearance of a country that is
going to war. All of this is open and clear. Beneath the
surface, it's engaged in much diplomatic manoeuvring,
making demands of its neighbours over disputed borders
and the like. Then there is espionage.'

'Sordid stuff,' Lady Maria said. 'Your father would have
none of it.'

'Sorry, Mother, but that's not quite accurate. Father
did use spies, when he had to. He simply didn't tell you
about it.'

Lady Maria touched the brooch at her throat. 'I don't
believe you. Your father was a statesman, a diplomat, a
man of principle.'

'And I understand that you're dedicated to preserving
that image. But he was also a general involved in more
than a few nasty affairs, and a politician who survived five
governments. He appreciated the need for espionage in
the defence of the realm.'

This was news to Aubrey. Lady Maria was ferocious in
perpetuating her particular view of her late husband,
Aubrey's grandfather. She'd commissioned the standard
biography of him, and she was currently organising
another 'to flesh out the man'.

While Aubrey had never thought of the Steel Duke as
a saint, he'd only heard a few whispers of anything other
than pure integrity. What his grandmother didn't understand
was that this made the old man more fascinating
rather than less.

'And now, Aubrey,' Lady Rose said, steering the conversation
from her position at the head of the table,
'your father wants to know how your work with the
Magisterium is coming along.'

Sir Darius touched his forehead. 'I've just taken a hit
and I didn't see it coming.'

Lady Rose smiled sweetly. 'I do my best to keep you
on your toes.'

'Er,' Aubrey said, 'did you want to know? Or not?'

'We're both interested, naturally.' Sir Darius shot a
glance at his wife. She leaned slightly to her right and let
it pass over her shoulder, still smiling. 'Craddock did
inform me of his plan, of course.'

'Of course.' Aubrey wondered if this were strictly
true, or if it was the other way around. Did his father
approach Craddock, put pressure on him to give his son
an opportunity? If so, it rankled. Aubrey was determined
to make his own way in the world, for that
would be the only way for him to know his own worth
– by doing it himself.

He gave a sketchy account of Craddock's requests,
enough to have both Sir Darius and Lady Rose nodding
their heads. Lady Maria looked disapproving, but as that
was her normal 'at rest' expression, he wasn't too bothered
by it.

'I know it's pointless reminding you to be careful,'
Lady Rose said, 'but do try to limit your life-threatening
scrapes to one or two a week.'

'I'll do what I can, Mother.'

'And Sir Darius,' Caroline said, neatly making use of
the conversational pause, 'when are you coming to speak
to the Eastside Suffragists?'

'The Eastside Suffragists? Tell me more.'

'Ah.' Caroline glared at Aubrey. 'You haven't been
told?'

'It's on my list,' Aubrey said and immediately felt he'd
started digging another hole for himself, but – helplessly
– he kept on excavating. 'I've been having some trouble
with the membership form.'

'Filling it in?'

'Finding it, then filling it in would be more precise.

I think I lost it.'

'You never asked me for it.'

'I didn't? I was sure I did. Didn't I, George?'

George blinked. 'Sorry, I missed that. What were you
asking?'

'Never mind.' Aubrey took a deep breath. 'When can
I get some membership forms from you, Caroline?
Please?'

Lady Rose and Caroline looked at each other. 'I'm
afraid, my dear,' Lady Rose said, 'this could be a longterm
project.'

Coffee and chocolates revealed little new, which gave
Aubrey some time to think as he was able to hold his
end up by dropping in an observation every so often,
nothing too taxing.

He was concerned for George, who appeared more
and more distracted as the dinner went on, rallying
gamely whenever he could to take part in the conversations
that rolled around the table.

George's level of distraction worried Aubrey. His
friend usually enjoyed the dinners at Maidstone, especially
when Lady Rose was present.

And then there was Rokeby-Taylor's dangerous
double game. Or was it a triple game? Money flowing in
all directions around Count Brandt. Whose side was he
actually on? And where were Maggie and her Crew?

And of course there was Dr Tremaine. The elusive
Dr Tremaine. Where was he?

Too many questions, not enough information.

Aubrey needed something more than speculation and
supposition.

He needed information – but where would he find it?

S
TUBBS WAS IDLING THE
O
AKLEIGH
-N
ASH AT THE FRONT
door. Aubrey and Caroline stood under the porticoed
entrance. 'What's keeping George?' Aubrey said. 'He said
he wanted to see you off.'

BOOK: Word of Honour
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