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Chapter 13

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While Lady Pearce and Zoe delicately set off down the long length of the Assembly Room, politely wafting their fans at their faces, Major General Sir Harry Pearce watched them, hoping his wife would do a delicate job of warning off his goddaughter from the balding, sneering man seated at the top of the room beside those of highest rank. A gesture of Lord Hunter's hand was all it took for Lance-Corporal Daniel Hunter to be called back to his father's side and Harry winced as the poor man glanced nervously at his former Commanding Officer before scurrying back to the hand that feeds.

Even Sir Harry had to acknowledge that the young man was in a difficult position. Hunter's power was immense, matched only by his wealth. The veins of gold he tapped ran throughout Britain and its Empire and Lord Hunter could make his son's life a living hell if he so chose. It was only Hunter's odd affection for the boy that had resulted in Daniel being rewarded with his father's favour in quite the way he had. There were many in London who were quite unsure how to respond to a black heir, who by virtue of his status and projected future income ought to be favoured by society and yet because of the features with which he was born there would always be those who would be unable to bring themselves to so much as shake the man's hand, who muttered in low tones about how dark his skin was, how thick his lips and how coarse his hair. Even Lord Hunter himself seemed at times to view his own son as a novelty of sorts, an amusement there for his father's entertainment. More than once Lord Hunter had humiliated his son, deliberately parading him in front of guests for the sole purpose of shocking them with his son's blackness and apparently caring not a whit what effect the episode might have on the young man himself.

"What a good joke!" Lord Hunter exclaimed from the top of the room and hoardes of people flocked around him, hanging onto his every word hoping for a word, a favour or a nod to the places he intended to frequent during his stay. The glover, candlemaker, tailor or cabinetmaker whose shop was frequented by Lord Hunter's household could readily boast to the entire city of Bath that they were honoured to hold one of the most illustrious personages in the land amongst their customers. It was all Harry could do to get through the rest of the evening without challenging the odious man to a duel. He hated to see Danny fawn over his father and force a smile at the bawdry jokes, the insults towards those whom Lord Hunter found displeasing and the inappropriate overtures towards females in the room.

To Harry's great surprise, his wife blended unerringly well into the room and Zoe smiled and looked very much the happy fiance. With so many Officers of His Majesty's Navy having set up home in the south west since the peace, Harry noticed Ruth acknowledging many former acquaintences and, Harry noted smugly, most of them looked rather put out that the infamous spinster daughter of Admiral Evershed had finally married – and to an Army man no less.

With Ruth occupied for the time being, Harry was happy to leave her to catch up with old friends. He had plans to do a little bit of snooping and hopefully find a quiet corner somewhere that would allow him to have a private conversation with Corporal Hunter to exchange intelligence. Harry had been out of the loop for some time now and he was itching to catch up with recent events. Having Callum sent out to find a messenger had been a troublesome but necessary step. It was absolutely essential now that he was settled in Bath for the next few weeks that any letters addressed to his office in Whitehall should be forwarded to The Crescent as soon as may be. While there were people he trusted back in Whitehall, Harry had no doubt that there would be a large pile of confidential papers piling up on his desk. Just because it was not the opportune time to move against Lord Hunter did not mean that Harry was about to let things fall by the wayside. A constant stream of information was vital for Harry's plans if they were to build the case to move against Hunter at the appropriate time.

While Ruth was busy socialising, Harry decided to go and find a quiet corner where he and Danny might have a little chat. As one might expect, most of the assembly was filled with people and the back staircases for the servants, footmen were full of working people rushing around trying to keep up with the demands of their masters and mistresses. After much exploration Harry headed down a long, increasingly deserted corridor and found a quiet dead end that contained only a few storage room. It appeared to be the place assigned to the storage of chairs, tables and assorted furniture for the ball. At the present time the storage facilities were mostly empty and deserted. Harry snopped around for a few minutes. His mind wandered off to his new wife and Ruth's shy joy at discovering the intimacy of marital relations.

Although he had engaged in relations with many women over the years, Harry could safely say that never before in his life had he found such pleasure in sexual encounters with the opposite sex. While outwardly his new wife was often shy and quiet about the matter, once engaged Ruth's intelligent mind went to work and the gentle yet intense nature of their encounters usually left Harry in a blissful state of exhaustion. He found that he could kiss her for hours, holding her close and as he thought of her he felt his body react. He wondered if Ruth might not be persuaded to come down here, instead of Danny. Yes, much more interesting. Would Ruth be interested in engaging in such intimacies with the added danger of the illict nature of their actions, the constant risk of being caught?

Harry smiled at the thought. There was a table over there that looked sturdy enough and Ruth was a petite woman. He thought of her slim waist and her smooth back, of sitting her on the table and lifting her skirts and...

"Well I'll be damned! General Pearce! My dear fellow!"

Harry spun around at the unmistakable voice of a person whom he had, to be perfectly frank, never expected to see again.

Juliet Shaw.

Juliet Shaw was a courtesan, but she was much more than that. An educated English woman living in Paris, Juliet Shaw was known under an alias as one of the highest paid and most discreet courtesans in Paris. In French circles she was taken for what she was, while only a very select few back in London knew that Juliet used her position to gain secrets from the highest ranking men of Napoleon's government and fed them, secretly, back to Britain. Harry and Juliet had known each other for a long time. The networks he had built up had allowed many a message to be secreted in or out of France safely when all other manners of passage had closed. Yet Harry was rather ashamed of his history with this woman. She had been there when no one else had, when his marriage had failed and his children wouldn't talk to him and the war was a dirty quagmire of attrition and she had taken him into his arms and become his lover. She was an excellent lover, Juliet Shaw, and wily at the craft of espionage but Shaw was also dangerous and if Juliet Shaw was in Bath, Harry knew there was a reason. His stirring erection faltered.

"Juliet Shaw."

"Harry Pearce," Juliet smiled, "Is that for me?"

Harry blushed, knowing his current attire did nothing to hide the aroused state of his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Juliet was on her knees and his breaches were unbuttoned and he was surrounded by the hot wet heat of her mouth. In his head wanted to say no, he thought of Ruth and of what she might say but thinking of her only made him more aroused. This had always been one of Harry's favourite things, and it didn't help that Ruth had yet to do such a thing. Against his better judgement his body took over, melting at the pleasure of Juliet's skilled tongue and hand. He couldn't hold back his moans of pleasure at her actions and it wasn't long before he was spilling his seed into her mouth. He felt her swallow and lick the head one last time and then he opened his eyes to the vision of Ruth, his wife, standing in the doorway watching him.

Harry blinked.

Juliet tucked him back in and buttoned him up. "I think you liked that. It always was your favourite."

"Ruth..." Harry's voice was raspy. His eyes flickered from Juliet to Ruth and back again.

"Don't tell me you're worried about that little mouse. If she knew what to do with you she wouldn't be standing in the doorway gawping." Juliet rose to her feet. "I am being put up by Lord Hunter so he can fuck me once a week when he's not doting on his negro son. Horrible man, all grabby hands. Hasn't a clue what to do with a woman. Anyway, I have access to his papers. If you would like to be seen with me from time to time I can pass you anything you desire. For a price."

Harry stared at Juliet, the most brilliant, self-serving and dangerous woman either side of the Channel.

Juliet leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips, the smell of himself on her lips making him feel slightly nauseous. Or maybe that was just the fact that Ruth was still watching. Juliet pulled back, smiled and then waltzed out of the room, brushing past Ruth who stood, staring at Harry.

Still Ruth did not move.

Harry fumbled to straighten his attire. "Ruth..." He began.

Ruth tore her gaze away, saying nothing. Eventually she straightend her shoulders and on shaking breath made her pronouncement. "You and I are going to go back into the ballroom and we are going to play the good couple and then in an hour I would like to go home."

"Ruth..." Harry started again, yearning to excuse himself. To explain. To say something in the face of her cold face and stoney silence on the matter. In the end he nodded solemnly.

Ruth turned to go.

"Ruth," He tried one last time, "I didn't mean to..."

But Ruth was gone and Harry was left jogging to catch up, the weight of his girth leaving him to the abject humiliation of an undiginfied trot, his belly wobbling as he struggled to keep up with Ruth's rapid stride. He arrived at her side at the entrance to the ballroom panting and out of breath. Inside a part of him died. He had never intended to allow matters with Juliet to become intimate. She had caught him unawares and Harry was, even now, struggling to get him mind around the events of the evening. Harry's shortness of breath and the sheen of sweat that had started to gather on his forehead garnered him more than a few stares and his humiliation continued as Ruth expressed her desire to dance. Harry painfully plodded through the next ten minutes of constantly bending knees. When they had stayed long enough, Harry and Ruth said their goodbyes to Zoe and Daniel and excused themselves as soon as their carriage was ready to return them to their residence.

In the carriage, Ruth pursed her lips.

"Ruth, she caught me unawares."

"Harry I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Any thought of whoring yourself out to her in exchange for information can be forgotten right now."

"I wasn't...she didn't..."

"Did she not promise that she could get Lord Hunter's private documents for a price?"

"You heard that?"

"Yes, Harry. I heard that."

Harry watched his wife carefully. When nothing more was forthcoming he carefully took in a breath and then began very quietly. "I was looking for a quiet corner away from the rabble where Danny and I might exchange information on his father. Being a newly married man my mind went to other places when presented with small dark corners out of the way. Though it may be of little consolation, I would have you know my mind was on my wife when Madam Shaw cornered me, saw the state I was in and...made her advances."

"And you what, Harry? Sat back and let her?"

Harry knew better than to make any sort of response to that tone of voice. He sat quietly, accepting his punishment. "Ruth, you were not there."

"Oh, I was there," Ruth scoffed, "And your lack of protest at her actions was notable." Ruth inspected her hands. "Would I be correct to assume you and Lord Hunter's mistress were previously acquainted?"

"We were together in Paris in our youth, many years ago and became reacquainted after the defeat of Napoleon."

"And she stayed in France, all through the Revolution and the War and never once came to any harm?"

"She was careful to cultivate powerful men around her as her clients. They protected her. The problem was at the end of the war when she had to transition. She always had ways and means of getting information out but once Napoleon fell she had to blow her cover to ensure the British didn't kill her."

"You vouched for her?" Ruth prodded.

"Of course I vouched for her! She was intimately acquainted with Napoleon's mistress. She gave us information no other source inside the French ruling elite could possibily elicit. Of course I vouched for her."

Ruth pressed her lips together. A thought began to form in her mind that she did not want to express out loud just yet. She had always trusted Harry's judgement but now she was beginning to see her own blind spots. Harry had buttons that could be pushed by those who knew him and that meant that he could be deceived. Juliet may have deceived him that very night.

"You need to be careful," Ruth pronounced.

"I thought you were angry?"

"Oh, believe me Harry, I am livid. But this goes beyond either of us. That woman is dangerous and she knows you, intimately. She knows the ways of men. She knows how to...how to get you exactly where she wants you." She looked away, unable to meet his eye. The thought of what had occurred made her stomach roil but she forced herself to look beyond the immediate situation.

"Ruth, I wouldn't exactly say..."

"Would you not? Pray, tell me at what point did you indicate your displeasure with her actions? At what point did you protest or request she cease? That woman has a power over you and you're the only one who can't see it. She can push buttons even you don't know you have. Harry, all it took was one grab at your breeches and you fell straight into her hands. How could you be so stupid!"

Harry had been accused of many things in his life. Never, not once in all his years had he been accused of stupidity in quite the manner in which Ruth was making the assertion.

"Did it never once occur to you that she might be playing both sides?"

Harry's world stopped. His ears began to ring. No, that thought had not occurred to him. He had been astute enough to see Juliet was a dangerous woman, an assertive woman with high contacts and a hunger for power, but it had never occurred to him that she might betray her country in that manner.

"No, I'm sure she would not dare..." Harry shook his head.

"Like Lord Hunter would not dare?" Ruth pressed.

The thought of Juliet Shaw and Lord Hunter being genuinely on the same side filled Harry's stomach with a sick feeling of dread. Between their discussion, the carriage ride and the events of the evening it was, therefore, a rather queasy General Pearce who stepped out of the carriage on The Crescent. Once they were in the door the servants took their outerwear and their boots were replaced with slippers. As they ascended the stairs together, Harry began to speak.

"If you would rather to retire to your own chamber this evening I shall of course understand."

"Husband, right now I wouldn't trust that woman not to break in and climb into your bed in the middle of the night. You can put any thought of sleeping alone out of your mind for the foreseeable future."

"Of course, Ruth. Whatever you feel is best." Harry felt slightly taken aback at this newly assertive Ruth. His mind and heart was a confused jumble. He felt equal parts stupid, guilty and humiliated. Ruth had pointed out several weaknesses he had somehow been blind to his whole life and he felt rather the fool for that, though he supposed it was no less than he deserved and while he could not deny having rather enjoyed the pleasures bestowed by Juliet's skillful lips and mouth, he rather felt that the price to pay for such pleasure was proving to be rather high.

Ruth did retreat to her own chamber for a short while to disrobe from her evening wear and prepare for bed. She crept into Harry's room once he was already in his nightshirt and under the covers and Ruth padded across the Master bedroom in her robe and slippers and slid into bed beside Harry. For a time both were silent but Ruth and Harry both failed to fall asleep. After a while, Ruth felt the only way ahead was to tackle the awkward subject head on. It did not escape her notice that the attentions Juliet had paid to her husband was something she had not yet felt like attempting.

"So, that's what you like then, is it? That's what I've been doing wrong?"

"You've been doing nothing wrong, Ruth. I have never sought to betray our marriage vows before now and have no intention of doing so again in the future."

"In spite of what just happened?"

"In light of what just happened."

Ruth slid down the bed and turned her back on him.

Harry lifted his hand. It hovered above the curve of Ruth's shoulder before Harry thought the better of it and pulled back. Quietly, he shuffled down the bed. "Forgive me, Ruth."

Ruth sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "I love you, Harry, but you let it happen. I can't forgive you."

Harry's eyes watered. He blinked back tears as his gaze locked onto his wife's hair. She loved him? Harry could do nothing but stare in the face of her declaration. Ruth loved him. In spite of all his fears, in spite of all of his failures, in spite of all of her emotional reticence she did love him after all. At length he nodded mutely, even knowing she could not see. He stretched the fingers on his right hand that bothered him from time to time, probably from too many sword fights over his military life. He wondered, not for the first time, if Ruth might not prefer a younger husband. "I love you too, Ruth," Harry whispered. The only response was the steady rhythm of breathing. Carefully Harry leaned over and placed the gentlest of kisses on Ruth's hair. "I love you very much and I shall endeavour to be a better husband for you. I promise."

The morning came bright and clear. A high ceiling of cloud was sparse enough to let the morning sunshine filter through and bestow it's graceful beauty on the many gardens of Bath. Once upon a time the gardens attached to all the surrounding properties had been sparse and newly planted. Now the trees had had a few years to mature and the plants had bedded in and the early morning air was filled with the myriad warbling of little birds that flittered between trees and bushes and filled the steet with delight.

Ruth stood at the window in her night gown and stared out at the garden. The curtains were opened and a warm cup of tea rested between her palms. She had had one of the maids bring it up first thing but Harry was still asleep and it looked like Ruth was going to drink most of it herself.

The quiet of the morning gave her a moment to think. To think about where she was and where she had come from these last few months. The weather looked like it was going to be rather warm today, which meant they should get out early if they planned to take the waters in order to return in plenty time to escape from the heat of the day. It would, of course, mean going out with Harry in public. The events of last night were still imprinted on her mind and in spite of her best efforts and her attempts to look at the event from a strategic point of view, Ruth could not get over the humiliation, anger and betrayal that Harry's actions stirred up inside her. There was a saying, Ruth recalled, about making one's bed. She supposed she could not fault Harry too much, most married men strayed and she had married a man with a strong history of infidelity. In truth, Harry's devotion to her Ruth found at once rather moving and rather difficult to cope with. Was it any surprise that when she sometimes brushed him off he might like to find his attentions reciprocated elsewhere? The look of devastation when Harry had spotted his wife watching in the doorway was something she would never forget. His apologies and requests for forgiveness seemed genuine. Ruth was hurt, hurt by Harry's failure to act and dismayed by her strong-willed husband's complete collapse at the propsect of a warm mouth and a modicum of short-lived pleasure.

Looking over at him in the bed this morning he looked peaceful and even rather boyish, in spite of his age. She did love him, for her sins, and she had agreed to marry him knowing his faults. It wasn't any man who proposed again after being rejected and he had in every way endeavoured to be a good husband, seeing to her comfort and security above all things. He had never been unkind or violent and had always sought to consult her on every matter of import. Could she allow him this one moment of weakness?

Ruth put down the cup of tea on the sill of the window and padded back to bed. Drawing back the covers, she pulled at Harry's night shirt and let her fingers trace up the inside of his thighs. With gentle hands she roused him and called his name to wake up. Sleepy eyes blinked open and stared up at her in wonder.

"I was dreaming about you," Harry whispered.

Ruth grasped him in her hands and licked her lips. Well, she didn't have the first clue what she was doing but like it or lump it she would be damned if some Parisian whore was going to get one up on her. General Pearce was her husband and she had every intention of keeping him.

Harry closed his eyes and swore.

"Ruth..."

"Don't make this more awkward than it is, Harry. How am I meant to learn if you constantly put up objections?"

Harry muttered under his breath, "I beg to differ."

Ruth sat back. "For goodness sake, Harry! If you recall my own household expenditure was rather on the modest side. Learning your own – dare I say it, unique – system of accounting would be hard enough even were it not for the absurdly large endowments."

Some hours had passed since the pleasures experienced in the bedroom that morning and the General and Lady Pearce were now in the study, where Ruth had chose to follow up on her husband's promise to look over the finances in as much detail as she should choose. It was a promise Harry was now beginning to regret.

"Ruth, those are not endowments. They are expenditures."

"And yet the rest of the civilised world..."

"I have a system..." Harry butted in with a finger and a deep breath, ready to point out a few things to help.

"Harry, you promised me time to inspect the books."

"And you are having it."

Ruth tried not to laugh. "I do suspect, Harry, that I might get along rather better if I did it on my own."

"Well it is my study and my book and I would like to spend some time with my beloved wife."

Ruth threw up her hands. "Are you going to behave like this every time I tell you I love you?"

"It is, indeed, quite possible," Harry replied happily. "Shall we have tea?"

Ruth sighed and pushed the books away. "I suppose a cup of tea would not be amiss."

"Excellent. I have a plan."

"A plan for tea?"

"Not a plan for tea, Ruth...a plan!"

Ruth looked sideways briefly and then back at Harry. He still had the same earnest expression on his face. She took in an inquiring breath.

"All in good time. First, we need a chess set."

After a light lunch, Ruth and her husband spent the afternoon in the drawing room away from the worst excess of the hot summer sun. As Harry has suggested, they passed the time playing chess and turning away visitors while the servants muttered in the hallway over the most peculiar behaviour of their new master and mistress.

"We ought, I think, to discuss a certain matter of contention between us."

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry. Quite frankly I think it might be better for both of us to forget the whole thing."

"No, I think not."

"Harry..."

"You have raised something which may be a crucial matter of importance, Ruth, and that is a question which – in spite of the joys of married life – has been bothering me since you mentioned it. This is, the loyalty of a certain Madam Shaw."

"Harry...General Pearce..."

"Lady Pearce," Harry cut across her formality. He made his move on the board and then met his wife's eye, "Needs must. Would that I could spare you, Ruth, even the mention of her name. It cannot be easy, I know, for a spouse to meet any person with whom one's marriage partner was intimately acquainted, I am sure." A dark look came over Harry's face and Ruth was reminded, not for the first time, that Harry was not the only transgressor in his original marriage. "You were right, last night. I should have done more to dissuade her. I am hesitant to admit the ways in which I now realise I may have been lead once upon a time. As in everything else, you make me see sense. For good or for ill, she must be dealt with."

"Well, she already believes she has driven a wedge between us. Perhaps we ought to play up to the illusion," Ruth suggested. "Lord Hunter would like that very much. I think. He has worked on me, has he not? And now his Mistress works on you."

Harry stopped, dead. He stared at his wife.

"What, Harry, is it not so?"

A coldness ran through Harry's mind. Hunter's behaviour towards Ruth. Juliet's behaviour towards him. In that instant he wished he could sail far, far away from either of them with Ruth and Ruth alone and live on a warm island somewhere far away where no one would ever bother them. Alas, they had to avert a plan that could bring down the government. When he opened his mouth, Harry's voice was hoarse and rough. "Yes. Yes, Ruth, it is so. How could I have been so stupid?"

A sad smile overcame Ruth's face. "We all of us have our blind spots. I for one have taken some time to admit to myself quite how highly I held you in my regard." Ruth looked down at her hands, at the single pawn she had taken that she now turned in her hands, "Not until I believed I might have lost you." She took in a breath and with new resolve looked up to meet her husband's eye. "Yes, well, the important thing is...I see now. I see you, Harry and I see what they're up to and I'll be damned if they're going to get away with it."

Harry could find no words of comfort, only relief at her finally acknowledging her feelings and at the fact that she indeed held feelings for him at all. He had believed she must, from her actions and from her warmth towards him but it was not the same as hearing something spoken aloud. A new resolution to work towards the goal that had brought them together might, indeed, be just the thing they needed to overcome the most recent obstacle that had come up in their path. If Ruth could stand to endure the presence of the man who had treated her so abominably, he would do everything that was required to resolve the matter. Shaw was a distraction, nothing more. "How do you do it, Ruth?"

"Do what?"

"That man attacked you..." Harry broke off, not wanting to even name the things out loud that presently hung in his mind. "...and yet you walk in his presence."

Ruth was silent for a long time. "There are those who seek revenge. Those who are hurt and react and act out of spite or fear or anger...and there are those who get on with their lives and use their experience as a confirmation, as a new resolve to live and to never let them win and those are the people, Harry, who can live with such things because in them there exists the absolute certainty that...that before I am done in this world that man will meet his retribution."

"You surprise me, Wife."

"I confess, I surprise myself sometimes," Ruth shrugged, "But there it is. It is rather cold, when you think about it, but in all my Christian heart I cannot find it in myself to feel remorse. For most people, yes, but not for him. I confess, I am concerned by his presence here, Harry. I wonder is it entirely to do with Daniel and Zoe's wedding?"

"Quite. I came to much the same conclusion last night. Too many whispered conversations. His contacts in the south west undoubtedly bring messages. Such an underhanded plan as we believe Hunter to have concocted cannot possibly exist in isolation. He must have messengers back and forth to all parts of the empire. Adam Carter has been good enough to agree to take a trip to Plymouth for the summer this year and our friend in the East India Company is keeping an eye on the London docks with a little help from a few friends that our good fellow Lance-Corporal Hunter made on our behalf."

"Good. London may take care of itself for a while. As for Plymouth? It is as likely a place as any," Ruth agreed, "Many a sailor will have landed there at the end of the war in need of some new income. I may have extended the hand of friendship to a few old friends of my father last night in the hope of eliciting any assistance we might have in discovering message routes."

"It is more likely he is using merchant ships running regular routes than navy ships. If only we knew a little more we might have some way of discovering how he is able to relay messages to any co-conspirators."

Quietly, Ruth took her turn without pausing for breath. "Sailors will go wherever they can find the work but there will always be those with loyalty to a good officer. All we need is one or two men. One intercepted message, Harry, that's all it will take. I only told a trusted few, I promise, and I did not disclose the true nature of our work. I thought it might be of assistance to us to have a few friends on side."

Harry nodded. He watched Ruth move her queen and responded with a knight. Ruth blocked with a pawn. "I worry for your safety."

Ruth reached out a hand and touched her husband's fingers. "I know you do." Harry's hand twitched under her touch. Still, after all this time, he still found himself affected by her presence and touch almost as much as they first day that they met. Without words she took up his hand in hers and with great care pressed into the soft tissue with her fingers, finding the rough scar tissue that seemed to bother him more on some day than on others. "My poor old war horse," Ruth smiled, "Whatever will I do with you?"

At that precise moment, Harry decided that Ruth might do whatever she liked with him and so he only smiled and moved his bishop, taking her knight.

Ruth pounced and moved a pawn the last step it needed to get to the back of the board and be Queened. Harry stared, wondering quite how the little blighter had gotten there and in three moves it would be checkmate.

"But...how?"

"Sneakily, dear husband. You were too busy watching my Queen," Ruth smiled smugly.

Later, Major-General Sir Henry James Pearce would point out this moment out as the precise one where he began hatching his plan. In the mean time his jaw hung open as he stared in wonder at the woman he had married. The smartest woman he had ever met, and the loveliest.