Chapter 2

Two

" Are you going to open it, or merely stare at it?" my aunt asked in her very direct way.

Also, in her very direct way, she had left no doubt as to her opinion regarding my decision to accompany her on safari.

" Out of concern for my well-being, my foot! " she told me at the time, when I had announced my intention to accompany her.

"And what of Mr. Brodie?"

I had explained, somewhat vaguely, that he needed some time to recover from that recent inquiry case and his injuries, and left it at that. However, not one to be subtle or to let the matter lie...she had made a more recent comment regarding my residence at Mayfair and his very obvious absence from an occasional visit to Sussex Square.

"I would imagine that Mr. Brodie should have sufficiently recovered by now. If not, he may have succumbed. However, I have not read of it in the death notices. Hmmm?"

I had replied that I was certain he had recovered, although my source for that was Munro.

And then there were her musings on the nature of men in general, from her vast experience.

" Men can be somewhat difficult at times even to the point of stubbornness. I do believe there must be something in the blood that makes them so, Scots particularly," she had added pointedly.

I continued to stare at the envelope. The flap had been sealed by the telegraph operator. I quickly opened it and pulled out the telegram. Best to get this over with, I thought.

However, in my wildest musings, I was not at all prepared for what it contained.

Lady Forsythe.

Urgent that you return at once to London without delay. Your assistance is required. Contact me immediately upon your arrival.

Sir Avery Stanton, Special Services Agency, London

"Bloody hell."

"Is there something wrong, dear?" my great-aunt asked.

My assistance was required?

It did seem that Brodie was apparently well and alive—it certainly wasn't notification of any catastrophe in that regard.

Therefore, there was only one reason Sir Avery had sent that telegram.

I had, after all, made that agreement months earlier...an agreement that had driven the wedge even further between Brodie and me.

It did seem that wedge was an understatement. His reaction had been explosive and seemingly quite final.

I suppose there was no choice in the matter. I might refuse, but I had visions of Sir Avery sending some of his ‘people' to retrieve me if I didn't make a timely appearance.

"It seems that I must return to London," I finally replied, not at all pleased about it. I could only imagine what it was that required my assistance.

I insisted that Lily remain at Old Lodge with my great-aunt. No sense in shortening their stay on my account,

"Sir Avery Stanton?" my aunt had inquired of the telegram. She had remarkable eyesight for someone her age, given the distance of a good ten feet from where she sat as I had opened the envelope.

"Some new inquiry case, perhaps?" she made a casual suggestion.

"Some previous business." I made the excuse and said nothing more.

We spent that last evening, before my departure for London, exploring the weapons at Old Lodge, that included twin flint-lock pistols that my aunt had first learned to shoot with. She seemed particularly fond of them.

The following morning, Mrs. Hutton, the caretaker's wife, provided me a carry-along luncheon and Mr. Hutton drove me to the village, where I was able to send off a response to Sir Avery to let him know that I was returning.

The trip back to London took several hours with connections made along the way. It was late in the evening when the train finally arrived at King's Cross station.

I would have preferred to meet with Sir Avery the following day with a chance to collect my thoughts and settle back in at the town house in Mayfair.

That was not to be, as my housekeeper, Mrs. Ryan, handed me a note that had been sent round by courier earlier that day and informed me that my presence was needed immediately upon my arrival.

"Something to eat first, miss?" Mrs. Ryan inquired as I put through a call for a cabman after letting the driver from the rail station depart.

I had no appetite. Instead, I quickly changed out of my travel costume as I waited for a new driver.

I retrieved my notebook from my writing desk and tucked it into my travel bag. I suddenly stopped as I came across the fountain pen Brodie had given me for my last birthday. It was elegant and undoubtedly quite expensive.

"Fer makin' yer notes," he had said.

I had cried, not because of what it was. I had other writing pens. Nor because it was so very expensive. It was because of what it meant, that he understood me, as few others had.

I put it in my bag as well. The cabman arrived shortly thereafter.

"When should I expect you, miss?" Mrs. Ryan asked as I seized my umbrella.

In truth, I had no idea. It was quite unusual for a meeting to be scheduled so late in the day. Yet, this was Sir Avery and the Special Services Agency. I told her not to wait supper as I left the town house.

On the ride to the Tower where the Agency had their offices, I thought again about that agreement I had made with Sir Avery, the very same agreement that had saved Brodie's life. I didn't regret it at the time.

However, I now wondered what it might mean, as Sir Avery seemed to call in that agreement I had made.

The offices of the Agency were under the Tower of London, in a rabbit-warren of ancient rooms and cells that had been converted for the purposes of secrecy.

The description was somewhat vague to say the least. The official version was that the Agency investigated and resolved delicate and at times dangerous threats against the Crown, the royal family, and others.

In the past, that had included conspiracies, counterfeit currency, and an assassination attempt against a member of the royal family, inquiry cases that Brodie and I had found ourselves involved in.

The unofficial version was that the ‘situations' the Agency dealt with were often of the utmost secrecy and never revealed on the crime pages of the daily newspapers.

I was signed in at the street entrance upon my arrival, then greeted by Alex Sinclair with some surprise on my part as it was quite late in the evening and he was often gone by that time.

We had first met on a previous case where he assisted with the breaking of a code that was critical to the inquiry case. Though he was quite young and not at all the stodgy sort, he was brilliant and always tinkering with some invention or another.

"I was asked to await your arrival and then immediately escort you to Sir Avery's office," he informed me.

"The telegram I received said that the matter was most urgent," I commented in an attempt to learn something of the matter as we wound through the maze of corridors and passageways toward Sir Avery's office.

He nodded as we continued down several steps and deeper below the main Tower.

"We have all be sworn to complete secrecy in the matter," he commented over his shoulder in a quiet tone.

"Not only would we lose our positions, but it was made clear there would be even more ‘serious repercussions.' I haven't even spoken of it with Lucy."

Lucy Penworth was my very good friend who had once worked at the Times of London newspaper and more recently at the Agency. In addition, she and Alex were in a ‘ personal relationship .'

She was intelligent, most observant, and I could only imagine how difficult it might be to keep one's work secret. And then there was Sir Avery.

He was from a titled family, a second son who had a distinguished military career, served in a handful of important posts, and was said to have acquired valuable experience and contacts abroad.

He had been chosen by the Queen to create a new and separate organization in the interest of protecting the Crown against clandestine threats. Hence, the Agency of Special Services.

We arrived at Sir Avery's office, a surprisingly stark set of rooms considering his status, family, and background. It was further insight into a man who was said by those who worked for him—Alex for one—that he had no time for extravagances. His priority was to ‘get the job done,' as it were.

Alex knocked at the door. There was a brief pause, then a response. He did not continue with me into the office, but stepped aside at the opened door. We exchanged a brief look. His expression mirrored that urgent message received at Old Lodge. He then left.

Sir Avery rose from behind the desk and greeted me. "So good of you to respond to my telegram, Lady Forsythe."

As if it had been a social invitation instead of a summons. I would have pointed that out, however, the office door opened once more. Alex had returned.

"I beg your pardon, sir." He would have announced the arrival of the person with him.

However, no announcement was necessary as Brodie stepped past him, then abruptly halted as that dark gaze met mine.

"Now that you are both here…" Sir Avery announced, then informed Alex that he could leave with instructions to escort the other ‘ guest ' to the office as soon as he arrived.

Brodie was the first to recover, and equally surprised—actually angry might have better described his reaction.

"There seems to be a mistake…" he started to say.

Sir Avery cut him off. "No mistake. I have summoned you both here on a matter of grave importance. You are quite well recovered from your injuries, Mr. Brodie?"

"Aye, but there are matters ye may not be aware of. Miss Forsythe…"

There it was again, addressing me by my former name.

"She has only just returned after an extended time away and is not prepared to undertake any business on behalf of the Agency."

While I didn't care for the formality that he had used to mention me, I was somewhat in agreement with his excuse about my recent return to London.

Very well, I thought. Whatever Sir Avery had planned, I would simply decline.

"Sir Avery, I'm certain whatever the matter might be, Mr. Brodie is quite capable," I attempted to explain.

What matter might that be? More counterfeit currency? Something pinched during a recent parade to celebrate the Queen's birthday?

"Please be seated so that I may inform you of the matter at hand," Sir Avery replied, undaunted by anything that either Brodie or I had to say.

I took a chair across the desk from Sir Avery. Brodie chose to remain standing, hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, the expression on his face dark as thunder, as I had once heard someone described. It certainly was appropriate now.

The matter at hand, as Sir Avery went on to describe it, was the disappearance of an important member of the Queen's Privy Council.

"Sir Anthony Collingwood was last seen two days ago at Sandringham during a gathering of his Royal Highness's usual circle of gentlemen friends for a weekend of gaming.

"He is a close personal friend of the Prince of Wales as well as First Lord of the Admiralty, a position of grave importance. His disappearance is most unusual.

"There has been no word from him in the time since, and there are concerns for his welfare," he continued. "It is for that reason that I have summoned both of you to this office.

"You have demonstrated in the past an ability to make inquiries where others cannot, as well as success in previous inquiries, and that expertise is much needed at this time."

When Brodie would have again objected, Sir Avery simply ignored him and continued on.

"I have received very few details. However, we might be able to learn more when we are joined by his Royal Highness."

As if on cue in a stage performance, there was another knock at the door.

"He has insisted on meeting here rather than at the Palace or his London residence which might have raised undue attention," Sir Avery explained, and then stood to greet the Prince of Wales as he entered the office.

"I believe no introductions are necessary," he commented as Prince Edward Albert, known more familiarly to some as Bertie, took my hand and bowed over it. We had become less formally acquainted in a previous inquiry case that we had resolved for him.

"Lady Forsythe and I are well acquainted," he now greeted me. "You are quite well, it seems, after your recent travels which can be quite exhausting."

"Yes, quite well, Your Highness," I acknowledged with a quick glance over to where Brodie stood apart.

"No formalities, please," His Highness replied. "I believe we moved past that with our previous association." He nodded toward Brodie. "You do me a great favor now, sir, by making yourself available."

Brodie nodded in response. That ‘ previous association' had been an assassination plot that Brodie and I had exposed and then thwarted. Afterward, we were thanked privately by him with the promise that if there was ever another need...

It seemed that there now was one.

"Lady Montgomery is well, I hope," he commented with the usual exchange of pleasantries.

I assured him that she was.

"Now that we are all present," Sir Avery interjected. "Please be seated. There is much to be discussed."