Two miles out of Greystoke, Cumberland, England
August 8, 1892
I stared at her just sleeping there in her crib, resisting the urge to run my fingers through her dark curls for fear of waking her. Black, like her father. Everything of her was her father, excepting her nose - that, I was quite certain, was mine. Her plump lips were pale pink, moving ever so slightly with her breath. Her tiny chest moved up and down. She was so much more beautiful than either of us. Her long black eyelashes fluttered slightly. It had been a month since last I had seen her. I could not be certain whether I wished for her to continue to sleep, or awaken that I might hear her tender little voice call for "Momma," her arms reaching that I might sweep her up and hold her tightly to me as I had so often ached to do while I was away. But she did not stir.
A pair of warm arms wrapped themselves around me.
"Was it him?" a long yearned for voice whispered into my ear. I savored the feeling of his hot breath on my cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder.
"Yes."
"So he is the new investor we have been hearing about. The one who has the high society of Austria all a-titter."
I could not help but recall the moment he entered grand Viennese ballroom. I had been assigned to uncover the identity to a new investor in the Viennese market. He was said to be fabulously wealthy, though the sources of his wealth were dubious at best. But enough money can cause questions to seem rather unimportant in the grand scheme of things to those who are in need of it. We had heard rumors of weapons sales and bank heists, counterfeiting and art thefts, opium and precious gems. A number of suspicious deaths of well known black market dealers had left a void to be filled and we had reason to believe this investor had poured himself into it. Everything so precise, so meticulously planned, it was less like watching the beginnings of a criminal empire and more like watching dominoes fall, one after another, tick tick tick. Even before I saw him, I had suspected, both Roger and I had suspected.
Despite it being a costume ball, he had come without. Rather he was clothed in a black tuxedo, his black curls (which I was accustomed to seeing loose) slicked back. Footmen bowed low as he entered the room. Men and women surrounded him, pleading for his attention, his favor; but he scarcely gave a nod of acknowledgement to them individually as they fell in bows and curtsies about him, simply glorying in their presence as he strolled through them. Strikingly tall, his frame was still spare, though he had gained some flesh which worked in his favor as it removed his slightly malnourished appearance and gave a brightness to his countenance. Though none might call that face handsome, it was no longer quite so ugly. I had shrunk behind the column at his arrival, a pale blue bird of paradise beaked mask held securely in place over my eyes and nose as I watched, hoping he would take no notice of me as he strode onto the dance floor where women lined up that he might dance with them.
"Roger, you would not have believed how they fawned upon him. It was less like he was a guest and more that he conducted them in a sycophantic choir."
"Did he know you were there?"
"Yes. I daresay the entire display was put on for my benefit." The frustration was evident in my voice.
As the evening had progressed, I watched him lead a number of women across the dance floor, each he regarded with a pleasant expression that belied his complete indifference as they prattled on. In all that time he did not so much as glance in my direction. For a few blessed hours I actually believed he did not recognize me, for I had changed much in the year I was gone from the field. I was no longer quite the skinny girl I had been; Emily had granted me a more womanly shape and form. Still a far cry from being handsome, but at least within hearing distance of it. A fat, balding man I recognized as the local Burger bustled up to him with a glass of champagne and proposed a toast. It was at this moment that Du Beauchene fixed me with his oily smile and raised the glass in my direction. "To our friendship." he declared in his perfect Austrian dialect. To hear those words echoed all around me by others who had no comprehension to their meaning - he had planned this moment to the smallest detail. I had run from the hall to the music of his laughter echoing through the ballroom.
Roger tightened his embrace.
I turned, laying my head against his chest that he would not see the tears welling up in my eyes, "This needs to end."
"All we can do is trust Granger's plan."
"I am tired of running away from him."
"I know. But if we let you work the case, he gets what he wants," he said.
"So we must allow him to grow wealthier and more powerful, that even the King might bow to him?"
"They will catch him."
"But not as fast as I would. If he wants me to chase him then perhaps we should give him what he wants. It is all for my sake anyway."
"You know I cannot allow that. I cannot allow him to ensnare you in his malevolent plans. He is a man of obsessions and once he knows he has secured yours, I fear the things he might do to you. The things he might persuade you to do. I fear he might cause you to lose yourself to him."
"Do you think me so weak?"
"No. You are the strongest woman I have ever known. But he has been formulating a plan for years the center of which revolves around his conquest of you. You know what he is capable of. The slow turn of the screw he executes almost imperceptibly until it is impossible to know which direction is that of his design and which, your own. You saw his notes after the Kingdom of Munster fell. He may have capitalized on our presence, but he had been playing his own game for years. He may have been a leashed cur, but he had been pulling Veena towards his own ends for over a decade without her ever knowing. We cannot risk you becoming a part of his game. You must have faith in Russell and Heinrich to manage The Remnant."
In the last year of our marriage it seemed I had been away almost as much as I had been home, if not more so. Chasing shadows that always appeared as one thing only to reform themselves as DuBeauchene on my approach. It was no way to begin a marriage. The head of the Secret Service, Mr. Benjamin Granger, was nothing if not sympathetic, unfortunately sympathy was all he was able to muster. The Remnant had not ceased their activity and between Russell Shaw and I, we would be in quite over our heads if not for the assistance of Heinrich Menning who was more than happy to expose those former members of the Kingdom of Munster who had less piety than perfidy on their minds.
"It is not all on your shoulders."
I clutched Roger tighter, burying my face in his lapel. These things I knew. He was repeating my own words back to me. Words I had said numerous times to Granger, to him, to myself though they did little to assuage my frustration and fears.
"Roger, he knows where we live, he knows who I am, who you are. I keep seeing him in my dreams coming in through the window and taking Millie from me... taking you."
"He won't do that."
"How can you be so sure?"
"He wants to possess your mind, for, while your body is beyond his grasp, that part of you he still might claim. If he took Millie he would risk drawing us even closer for we should not rest until she had been recovered. And if he murdered me, then he could never have it, for you would never be able to see him without thinking of me."
There was a slight murmur from the crib. We both turned to look, but Millie was still sound asleep.
"She must have heard your voice through her dreaming. She misses you terribly when you are gone."
"It kills me to leave her. Granger says it will not be much longer. But he has been saying so for years now."
"You are the best he has. I don't blame him for being unwilling to lose his second in command to the northern highlands just yet. Just as he cannot blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself." He kissed the top of my head, then my brow. He tilted his frame that he might meet my eyes with his own, large and dark, imploring me. "Stay with me tonight," he said.
"The maids already wonder why we bother to have a second bedroom."
"Let them wonder. I want you with me tonight. I have lived too long without my heart, and now that it is in my grasp I cannot bear to be apart from it a moment longer."
"I don't know. This trip has left me distracted. I doubt I should be much in the way of company."
"Poor wand'ring one," Roger sang, as though a lullaby, with little regard for the actual notes. "if such poor love as mine can help thee find true piece of mind, why take it, it is thine."
"Your singing is atrocious"
"Millie seems to like it."
"That is because you are her father and she is too young to know better."
"It would be better if it were you."
"As you wish," I finally acquiesced, smiling tenderly. "Take heart, fair days will shine," I sang softly, bestowing a gentle kiss on my husband's lips. "Take any heart, take mine."
Roger's lips found mine and took them with no resistance. He swept me up into his arms, still powerful after all of these years, and carried me from the room. Let the maids talk. For the beating of that beloved heart would be my lullaby tonight.
I awoke that morning to the early-August sun warming my exposed shoulder. I ran my hand over Roger's chest, fingers lingering ever so lightly on the scars that marked it, tracing gently upon one near the center of his form in particular. His large hand gently engulfed mine, leaving the fingertips exposed, hovering over the spot just so.
"The mark you gave me." He pressed our hands flat upon it. He smiled, his eyes less teasing than tender - though both were present in those dark orbs. He had gained a new wrinkle near his eye, another beside his mouth, there was more grey in his hair now as he approached fifty; but still he was as handsome as he had ever been.
"I thought you were still asleep."
"Not since sunrise."
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"I so rarely have the opportunity to watch you sleep. I could not bear to see it wasted."
"Roger," I murmured with a smile. I moved our hands and kissed the place where my bullet had pierced his flesh only five years ago.
He shifted his position, pulling me into his embrace. I leaned in to kiss him but he pulled back with that wry smile of his. "What was that you said?" I felt his cool fingers press into the curve of my spine.
"Roger!" The passion in that name escaping in a gasp. I must have him. I must feel his lips on mine.
"Mina," he mumbled just as my lips met his.
There was a knock at the door, then the sound of the knob turning.
"Mr. Norbert, I have a message from- Oh my gosh!" The young maid's face was a brilliant shade of scarlet. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt. I had no idea you were home, Ma'am."
Roger whispered with a vaguely wicked, smug smile, "You forgot to notify the staff, didn't you?"
I rolled away from Roger so we were sitting next to each other, pulling the covers up so as not to expose my nakedness to the maid. "I'm sorry, Angela. I arrived late and did not wish to wake the household," I said, mildly annoyed at myself for not foreseeing this eventuality.
"Who is the message from, Angela?" Roger asked.
"It is from Mr. Granger, sir." Angela was trying her best to avert her eyes.
Roger was momentarily taken aback. "Granger? What could he be calling about this early? You did remember to report to him, didn't you, darling?"
"Yes, we spoke before I left London."
"Well, what did he say?" Roger asked.
"He would not say what it was about, only that it was a matter of such a sensitive nature he felt it would be best discussed in person."
"In person? But I only just got back," I objected as though Angela were in some position to alter the situation.
"I am sorry, Ma'am, it is what he said."
I sighed, running my fingers through my long, sand blonde hair. "Well, I supposed there is nothing for it. With any luck I should be home by supper tomorrow." I said, gathering up my bedclothes. "Perhaps you should avoid telling Millie I was home, I could not bear her to think she missed me."
"Oh," Angela said, as if just comprehending. "He requested Mr. Norbert come as well."
Roger jerked up, leaning forward, "What? What could he want me for?" He looked to me.
I shook my head, eyes wide with surprise, "I haven't the slightest idea."
"Thank you, Angela, you are dismissed."
"Sir?" the diminutive maid chirped.
"Yes?" Roger regarded her irritably.
"Would you like me to inform the Nurse you will be going?"
"Oh, yes." He glanced over to me; a thought seemed to strike him. "Tell her to pack a trunk for Millie, she'll be coming with us."
I smiled in spite of myself. "Oh Roger! Do you mean it?"
"Why not? Let's make a holiday of it. It's been ages since we last saw Quentin and Gretchen and it is about time Millie had her first visit to London. Thank you, Angela."
The maid left the room, I could still see traces of pink on her neck.
"Oh Roger!" I threw my arms around him. "I can't thank you enough for this."
He smiled at me, giving me a peck on the lips, "Yes, you can. And I daresay you intend to."
I smiled wickedly, "I daresay you are correct, Mr. Bond."
An hour later we were still in bed, though now sitting, not quite ready to abandon this precious time.
"What could Granger be on about? You've only just returned," Roger said.
"Something must have happened during the night, but as to what I could not even venture a guess."
"Doesn't he remember, I'm retired?"
"I doubt he could forget for how he fought it."
"Well, he wouldn't call me out of retirement for nothing." He pulled on his shirt. "We'd best get dressed. We'll have almost an hour to Penrith and we do not want to miss the afternoon train."
We dressed and made our way to breakfast just before the clock struck ten.
"Momma!" a little voice from behind me cried as we were leaving the dining room. I turned to see my daughter, shaken free from her nurse, running with the toddling gait of a child late in their second year, the pale pink ribbon that vainly attempted to hold her hair streaming behind.
"Millie!" I swooped her up into my arms where she buried her face in my shoulder. "How is my darling girl? Here, let me look at you. Have you grown since I last saw you?" She was certainly a beauty in her blue satin dress that served to highlight her glossy, raven black hair. But, of course, she must have the ribbon Sarah Moneypenny had given her, for it was her favorite in all the world, despite the fact it matched little that the nurse dressed her in. The nurse had implored I intervene, to no avail, for I enjoyed the reminder of my former Lady's Maid; now my secretary and an occasional agent in the London office.
"Two fingers, Momma." She held up two tiny fingers to the back of her head as if to show me.
"Two whole fingers? You had better be careful or you will be taller than your father before you are six!" I exclaimed.
She laughed, "Don't be silly, Momma!"
"Daddy!" she proclaimed, upon seeing Roger. "Daddy look! It's Momma!"
Roger caressed the back of her head, "So it is. Doesn't she look beautiful this morning?" He gazed at me as he said this.
"Yes, Momma is the most bootiful momma in the whole world." She stretched her arms for emphasis.
"What has Daddy been filling your head with while I was gone?"
"Only words and facts," he answered.
I fixed him with a wry look. "You know, we do have to go to London today."
"I'm sure Granger could wait another day."
I gave my husband a peck on the cheek and turned to my daughter.
"Thank you, my darling." I kissed Millie on her rosy cheek. "And you are the most beautiful little girl in the whole world." I kissed her other cheek. "Are you ready to go to London?"
She hid her face in my shoulder.
"You're not afraid to go to London, are you?" Roger asked, trying to fix her bow.
"No," she lied, chewing on her fingers. She always chewed her fingers when nervous.
"Do you know who lives in London?" I asked.
"No..." she shook her head and half her body with it, her fingers still in her mouth.
I gently brushed her fingers from her mouth, "Miss Sarah lives in London. You remember Miss Sarah who gave you that pretty pink ribbon in your hair." I fondled the little half bow.
Her eyes brightened, "Miss Sarah!"
"Yes, Miss Sarah. She doesn't know you are coming so it's going to be a surprise."
"A suprise?"
"Yes. She's going to be very happy to see you. Maybe she'll even buy you a new ribbon." I might have promised her her very own star for the thrill upon her face. "So now are you ready?"
She nodded her head, as well as her entire body down to her waist in reply.
"Then, let us be off. We would not want to miss the train. Then we would not be able to see Miss Sarah."
She appeared horrified at the thought. "Momma! We have to go now!" She pulled at the lapel of my jacket as though that might somehow move us faster.
"I think someone is anxious to go," Roger smiled.
"Let's hope she stays that way for the whole of the train ride." I replied.
At first, Millie had been captivated by the train ride, eagerly standing on my lap with her hands and nose pressed against the window, but as time wore on she slowly became bored by it. For an hour I was able to keep her attention through stories but even that soon lost its hold. She then climbed onto Roger's lap, rousing him from his sleep, begging that he might bounce her on his knee. She screamed with glee as he did, making me quite glad for our private compartment. Finally, she curled up in the empty seat beside him and slept with her head resting upon his leg as he stroked her hair. I smiled fondly at the pair of them, though not without a pang of sorrow for all I had missed while away; those many times I was away.
"Domesticity becomes you," I said.
"Do you think so?"
"I never imagined you would be quite such a devoted father."
"Nor did I. Well, I suppose, I never imagined I should be a father at all. I truly thought I would die alone on some distant shore."
"You still may, if Granger has his say."
"Yes, but it won't be alone. You would never forgive me if I didn't say goodbye."
"I would never forgive you for dying at all."
"Then I am afraid I'm going to disappoint you very much one day."
Infuriating man. I turned his chin toward me with the touch of a finger and kissed him. Millie took a deep breath in her sleep. Roger and I watched her sleep for a minute before once more turning to each other.
"You must know, you are to blame for this," he said, wryly.
"Me? I was all set to marry Quentin Underhill. You were the one who could not contain his feelings any longer."
"Well, if you had been content to knit doilies and make baskets instead of saving the world, then perhaps my heart would not have been so enticed." He pulled me to him, kissing me once more, leaving me again thankful for our private compartment.
"When did you fall in love with me, Mr. Bond?" I asked.
"To say when implies there was a single moment. Though I do recall the exact moment I knew there was a problem."
"A problem?" I said, provokingly.
"Yes, a problem." He cupped my cheek in his hand, running his thumb along the bone. "But there were many moments before wherein my heart betrayed me. When you found Bess in the bathing house. Or the moment you approached me at the cafe. When you put that pistol to Chapman's head. In any of those moments, my heart was gone. But it was on the beach, that was when I knew it would not return to me. And when I saw you that night in your room... I knew if I did not go then I never would."
"So you went as far as Hong Kong."
"And even that was not far enough to cure me."
"Is that why you didn't come back with Paul?"
"No, that was because he was insane and seeing me would only further that insanity - he would think himself still in the camp," he said in that matter of fact way of his. Then he smiled tenderly at me, "But I cannot tell you how desperately I wanted to be there. To be in England and not to see you; it felt as though my insides were rent apart."
"How do you tolerate when I am gone so often?"
"Because I have Millie, she is the part of you that makes your absence bearable."
"No small wonder she is over-indulged."
"I would indulge you too, if I were given the proper chance."
"As though Granger would ever give such a chance."
"We could always tell him we intend to have another child. He gave us almost two years with Millie."
"Do you want to have another child?" I knew he did, I just wanted to hear him say the words. Emily was never intended to be an only child.
"My darling, I would like nothing better than to give the Mennings a run for their money."
"Roger! They have five!" It was true, Dinah and Heinrich had been nothing if not prolific, welcoming to the world Gregory James, Hedwig (named for Menning's mother), Quentin, Louisa (named for Dinah's own mother), Nellie, and Grover (who was my favorite). They now required an entire pew whenever they attended Mass, which was frequently for they were always grateful to the Jesuit Priest who had married them and wished to honor their oath. They had taken well to Catholicism for it suited them.
"Six sounds like a good number, don't you think?" he asked.
"Let us work on two, first."
We arrived at the main office at half past four, just as many of the daytime agents were packing up before the night shift arrived. Only the portly and unpleasant looking Agent Grimsby still sat at his desk as though the work day were not ending. He had lost a son to the Remnant and would work all night if Granger did not force him to leave. If only he had lost the boy to death, instead, he might find some peace of mind. Instead, the younger Grimsby had been seduced by the promises of Du Beauchene. He was a child of avarice who had locked away the fortunes of one too many a wealthier man in the vault and was only too happy at the prospect that he might liberate them and spend them in the sunshine of the South of Italy as they were meant, rather then leave them to languish locked in a dark and airless container.
"Miss Sarah!" Millie cried as she caught sight of the young, blonde woman fashionably attired in a shirtwaist dress. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe this was the same niave little maid who had once worked for my insidious uncle. Sarah had been my recommendation to replace our former secretary, Gina Harper. After the Kingdom of Munster fell it was found Veena was not the only woman Sperry had compromised himself with for once the world that the Kingdom had fallen was announced he absconded to Spain under the guise of being Miss Harper's father. He was charged with treason, but such efforts were, in the end, unnecessary. For Du Beauchene, not wishing to leave any loose ends, made quick work of him and Miss Harper, for good measure. Sarah had proven to have an aptitude for the work. Perhaps it had only been the lack of challenge that a maid's work presented that had left her seeming a simpleton. Millie broke free of my fingers and ran to her.
"My stars!" Sarah exclaimed, kneeling down to catch the tot, "Is that my little Emily? Why you've grown so, I scarcely recognize you."
"Miss Sarah, may we go to the park and feed the ducks?"
"Of course we may, after the meeting. I am certain Mr. Granger would like to see you. He hasn't seen you since you were just a baby."
"How is Granger?" Roger asked.
"His health has been a little funny as of late, but it is probably just a cold coming on. It is good to see you again Mr. Bond."
"It is only Lord Norbert now." Roger answered with a smile. "James Bond is retired."
She glanced off uncomfortably. I had the sense she knew something we, as of yet, did not. "Mr. Granger is waiting for you in his office."
As we followed Sarah into the office, the desk so littered with papers they almost obscured his tea, Benjamin Granger stood to greet us. He still had the appearance of a clerk in his grayish blue waistcoat and white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His silvery hair was cropped short and parted to the side of his high, square brow. "M, Bond, I'm glad you were able to come on such short notice. And I see you've brought Emily." He managed a smile, though it was clear this was only for the sake of my daughter, for his eyes revealed the stress he was under.
"Say hello to Mr. Granger, Emily," I said.
Millie, normally quite gregarious with strangers, twisted on my hand, turning her face into my skirts, fingers in her mouth. She glanced at him from behind the fabric.
"Hullo, Mr. Granger," she whispered, and turned back into my skirts.
He bent down slightly, "Hello, Emily. How old are you?" He was perfectly aware of Millie's age, but I suspected he knew this might be the best line of conversation to break through to her.
"I'm two. I'll be three next month," she answered, shyly.
"Three! Why you're almost a young lady. My granddaughter is three. Here is a picture of her," from his pocket he pulled out a little cameo portrait of a young girl with brown hair and grey eyes and handed it to Millie. "Perhaps you will have the chance to meet her."
"What's her name?" Millie asked, holding the trinket in both hands.
"Meredith."
"She's pretty."
"Yes, she is. Do you like to draw, Emily?"
"Yes." She looked up from the cameo with sparkling eyes.
"Well, perhaps Miss Moneypenny might be able to find you some paper and a pen and you can draw a nice picture for Meredith. What do you think?"
Emily nodded her head up and down excitedly.
"Very good. Miss Moneypenny, if you would."
Sarah led Millie out into the main room. I could hear her chattering excitedly about the things she wanted to draw for the girl in the cameo. Granger walked over and shut the door, locking it with a small brass key. I noticed faint white lines on his fingernails as he turned the lock. He must have accidentally injured himself.
"She's very tall for her age," he said, conversationally, closing the blinds on the office windows. When neither of us responded, he continued, "I suppose that is to be expected, given her parentage."
"You did not call us all the way here to talk about Emily, Ben," Roger said.
Granger stood, still facing the window with his back toward us. I knew this to be a sign he intended to ask for something unreasonable enough that he preferred not to look us in the eye. "No, I did not. I have a case that requires a rather... delicate hand."
"In case you have forgotten, I am retired. Your own doctor refused to clear me."
"I realize that, but I've had a letter from the Pinkerton Detective Agency."
"Pinkertons?"
It had been years since I had heard the Pinkerton name invoked. Not since the Kingdom of Munster when Roger had been forced to contact an old friend, Pinkerton Detective Herbert "The Poet" Spencer for assistance in uncovering Veena Ernst's background. It was odd that the American detective agency would deign to contact us.
"Yes. A man named Herbert Spencer requested you specifically for the matter." Granger threw a piece of paper on the desk in front of Roger. At the top was the all seeing eye that was the emblem of the agency and at the bottom, in large script, was the signature of Herbert F. Spencer. "He is of the opinion that you are the best person for the case, and given the details, I tend to agree."
Roger took the paper in his hand, glancing over it. "What is the case?"
"Perhaps you have heard of the Homestead steel strike in the Americas?"
"I heard something in passing about it at the club from one of the factory owners, but I don't see what a labor dispute has to do with us."
"Two weeks ago the industrialist who was in charge of the factory during the incident was nearly assassinated. Mr. Frick survived the attempt, but only just. There are rumors that his business partner may have ordered it in retaliation for the uprising at the mill."
"How does this involve the secret service?" I asked.
"His business partner is a prominent Scottish citizen and philanthropist, a Mr. Andrew Carnegie by name, and to add to the matter, Mr. Carnegie was in Scotland at the time of both incidents and still remains there."
Hell's Bells and buckets of blood! I silently cursed.
Roger spoke first, "So if he did order the attempted assassination, he would have done it from our jurisdiction."
"Correct."
"So you are planning to send us to Scotland?"
"No. For everything that might be said about Andrew Carnegie, he is a pragmatist. Beneath his genial demeanor hides a shrewd businessman. He has been holed up in his cottage in the highlands. Even if we were able to infiltrate it, he has likely burned the evidence." I had a sneaking suspicion I would not like where this was going. "We need Agent M and yourself to go to the Americas to see if you can locate any evidence linking Mr. Carnegie to the attack."
"America!" Roger slammed his hand's on Granger's desk; an action that elicited no response from the older man.
"Yes, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be precise."
"The steel town?" I asked. I had heard of it, but only enough to recognize the name.
"The very same. You will be staying with the family of Henry Clay Frick at their estate under the guise of being a potential investor. With the strength of the Moore and Norbert family names behind you, and given the circumstances, I expect they will welcome you with open arms. It is a rather simple case, but as you can see, given the rank and fortune of those involved... well, we must be certain to provide a level of care and discretion that I can trust only my best agents to provide."
Roger turned around, leaning his back against the desk in frustration, the letter crumpling between his hand and the edge of the desk.
"What about Emily?" he asked. "We'd be away for over a month. I can't leave her alone for so long."
"I imagine you would take her with you. Mr. Frick has young children of his own, I believe he has a daughter about Emily's age. It is essential that you appear as a proper British family. To be perfectly honest, you are the only agents I have who could possibly take this assignment." Granger rarely begged. I could only recall two other times in my life that I had seen him do so. Whoever this Frick and Carnegie were, it was clear their business was important to the crown.
Roger appeared torn, as I felt. We had sworn an oath to our Queen and country to do whatever might be necessary to protect them. It was our duty to go. And yet, the journey was long, and to be entrenched with the family left us little room for error. And then there was the matter of Millie. How might we explain it to her? Was it even right to take her to the other side of the world to reside with total strangers. Was it safe? There had already been one attempt on this man's life - what was to say there might not be another?
"Let us think on it," he finally said. "We'll give you our answer tomorrow."
"It would give us the opportunity to see my brother, Chet. I haven't had the chance to since the supper when Father disowned him." I said as I rolled down my stocking in our hotel room bed.
"I will say, that was the most entertaining dinner party I have been to in a while." Roger smiled, pulling his bowtie from his collar.
"I regret that we had to miss the wedding."
"You know your father forbade it. Besides, you were in Switzerland."
I thought back for a moment, "That's true, I was. Was that really only in June? I can't believe my brother is two months married."
"I still can't believe he actually went all the way to Boston to marry that Salvationist woman," Roger laughed. "I never thought much of him until then. Do you remember what she said to your parents as she and your brother left the dinner?"
"Oh yes, 'And thank you for your hospitality.' You could have knocked Father over with a feather!" I laughed.
The scene had been simply stunning, I had never expected my own hedonistic younger brother to announce his engagement to a woman from the Salvation Army. We had all expected he would propose to the daughter of Count Mason, but he had surprised us, instead falling in love with a Salvation Army Major. Father was furious, a fury only aiding by the young woman refusing to be cowed by his admonitions and threats. I supposed, bolstered by her boldness, Chet found the courage to finally stand up to Father which only further enraged Father. He had thought to subdue Chet by threatening to disinherit him, but the threat did not have the desired effect as Chet, instead, chose to leave with the young woman. But, as Lysander once said, 'The course of true love never did run smooth' and Arthur and Elizabeth conspired to break the engagement. It was a terrible thing they did, one that might not have been discovered if not for Arthur's untimely death. I felt some sadness at the news of his passing, but as Millie was still only an infant, I was unable to attend the funeral. Afterwards Elizabeth disappeared. It took almost a year and the aid of Roger's former contact from Africa, Sir Alfred Greenley, to finally track her down, doing penance as a Governess under the name Mary Bird. Not many months later, Jet disappeared following a trip to Norwich, only to turn up in Boston, Massachusetts where the Salvationist woman had moved to. Father was furious when he would not return, legally disowning and disinheriting my brother. He was even more so when they announced their reconciliation and engagement a year later. Father banned us from the event. I had to admit, I had never been so proud of my brother.
Roger turned serious, "It might be good for you to get away. Far from the poisonous shadow of Monsieur Du Beauchene." He spat the name out as though something vile. "And I'm sure Millie would enjoy it. It's not as though we will be living in hovels. They are a wealthy, respectable family. And judging by Frank's report the assassin was a complete buffoon. Shot and stabbed the man and still didn't manage to kill him. If there is any evidence of a conspiracy, we should have no difficulty discovering it."
"But what of Millie's safety?" I asked.
"If you are truly that worried, perhaps we might leave her with her uncle until we have investigated the situation ourselves. But, if your were to ask me, I doubt there would be any place safer that she might be than with two secret service agents at the house of a millionaire who has no doubt increased his security since the attempt on his life."
I nodded, considering his points. It was true. How might she be safer than surrounded by those who were watching for trouble?
"Then we are agreed?" I asked.
"Yes. But let's not make it too easy on Granger. I don't want him thinking he can regularly make outrageous requests of us." His eyes twinkled as he said this, leaning over for a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in to me.