gentle sky.
The curtains over the French doors to the garden were drawn, keeping out the winter.
Jack Radley stood near the mantelshelf, handsome, well dressed as always. Whether he was at his ease or not, he always managed to look it. He had a natural grace. He straightened up as Pitt came in and closed the door.
“Sorry to call without warning,” Jack said. His smile was slight, and worried.
Pitt went over to the decanter on the side table and without asking poured two glasses of sherry. He did not particularly like it, and he took less for himself, but it gave him time to order his thoughts. Jack Radley was the second husband of Charlotte’s younger sister, Emily. He had begun as a remarkably handsome and charming young man about town with good breeding and absolutely no money. The fortune was Emily’s, inherited from her first husband, Lord Ashworth.
But Jack had taken his opportunities very seriously. He had worked hard to become a member of Parliament, fighting for a seat on his merit rather than accepting a safe one where he could afford to be idle. He had earned his present position in the Foreign Office. In fact, he had been extremely unfortunate not to be in an even higher one. A misjudgment, a loyalty betrayed, had robbed him of a position his diligence warranted.
He sipped his sherry. “Thanks. Rotten night. Feels like January already. I’m sorry to disturb you. You must be frantic with this appalling bombing.” It sounded like a casual remark, but Pitt knew it was not. Jack was becoming politically adept. Beneath the charm, he seldom wasted words.
“Indeed,” Pitt nodded. “I imagine you would much prefer to be at home with Emily. So what brings you here?”
Jack smiled sincerely this time. “Can’t waste time playing diplomatic games with you, can I, Thomas? Very well. To the point. I heard you spoke to Alexander Duncannon today. Whether it has anything to do with this bombing at Lancaster Gate or not, people will assume that it has. That has to be taking all your time and attention right now.”
“Of course. Yes, I went to see Duncannon. Why does that concern you?”
“Are you aware of who his father is?”
“No. Nor do I care.”
“Then you had better begin caring.” Jack’s smile had vanished and his face was marked with concern. There were lines Pitt had not noticed before around his eyes and mouth.
“Why?” Pitt said levelly.
Jack kept his temper with difficulty. “Thomas, don’t pretend you are naïve. You’ve been in high office long enough to know that things are seldom that simple. I’m not asking you to lie, or to let a guilty man go, or arrest an innocent one—just wait a few days—a week maybe…”
“Wait for what?” Pitt asked.
“Until a certain contract of major importance has been negotiated,” Jack replied. “I can’t exaggerate how much it matters. It is with a provincial government in China, concerning the establishment of a free port on the China Sea. The boost to trade will be immeasurable. In Britain thousands of people will benefit. The work it will promote will make them richer and safer—once this contract is signed. That’s all I can tell you, so please don’t push me for more.”
“Why on earth should I hold up the investigation of a bombing because of that?” Pitt asked curiously. “I don’t see any connection.”
“Godfrey Duncannon is the only man who has the skills and the connections to negotiate it successfully. If his son is under investigation, or there is even a suggestion of it, it will handicap him enough to jeopardize the whole matter. The Chinese don’t trust us easily, which after the Opium Wars is hardly surprising! I wouldn’t trust us.”
“Replace him with someone else,” Pitt said. “Let him advise them from somewhere where he isn’t seen. They can report to him, and he can put his knowledge there, without anyone knowing.”
Jack lost patience. “For God’s sake, Thomas! It’s his standing, his
The curtains over the French doors to the garden were drawn, keeping out the winter.
Jack Radley stood near the mantelshelf, handsome, well dressed as always. Whether he was at his ease or not, he always managed to look it. He had a natural grace. He straightened up as Pitt came in and closed the door.
“Sorry to call without warning,” Jack said. His smile was slight, and worried.
Pitt went over to the decanter on the side table and without asking poured two glasses of sherry. He did not particularly like it, and he took less for himself, but it gave him time to order his thoughts. Jack Radley was the second husband of Charlotte’s younger sister, Emily. He had begun as a remarkably handsome and charming young man about town with good breeding and absolutely no money. The fortune was Emily’s, inherited from her first husband, Lord Ashworth.
But Jack had taken his opportunities very seriously. He had worked hard to become a member of Parliament, fighting for a seat on his merit rather than accepting a safe one where he could afford to be idle. He had earned his present position in the Foreign Office. In fact, he had been extremely unfortunate not to be in an even higher one. A misjudgment, a loyalty betrayed, had robbed him of a position his diligence warranted.
He sipped his sherry. “Thanks. Rotten night. Feels like January already. I’m sorry to disturb you. You must be frantic with this appalling bombing.” It sounded like a casual remark, but Pitt knew it was not. Jack was becoming politically adept. Beneath the charm, he seldom wasted words.
“Indeed,” Pitt nodded. “I imagine you would much prefer to be at home with Emily. So what brings you here?”
Jack smiled sincerely this time. “Can’t waste time playing diplomatic games with you, can I, Thomas? Very well. To the point. I heard you spoke to Alexander Duncannon today. Whether it has anything to do with this bombing at Lancaster Gate or not, people will assume that it has. That has to be taking all your time and attention right now.”
“Of course. Yes, I went to see Duncannon. Why does that concern you?”
“Are you aware of who his father is?”
“No. Nor do I care.”
“Then you had better begin caring.” Jack’s smile had vanished and his face was marked with concern. There were lines Pitt had not noticed before around his eyes and mouth.
“Why?” Pitt said levelly.
Jack kept his temper with difficulty. “Thomas, don’t pretend you are naïve. You’ve been in high office long enough to know that things are seldom that simple. I’m not asking you to lie, or to let a guilty man go, or arrest an innocent one—just wait a few days—a week maybe…”
“Wait for what?” Pitt asked.
“Until a certain contract of major importance has been negotiated,” Jack replied. “I can’t exaggerate how much it matters. It is with a provincial government in China, concerning the establishment of a free port on the China Sea. The boost to trade will be immeasurable. In Britain thousands of people will benefit. The work it will promote will make them richer and safer—once this contract is signed. That’s all I can tell you, so please don’t push me for more.”
“Why on earth should I hold up the investigation of a bombing because of that?” Pitt asked curiously. “I don’t see any connection.”
“Godfrey Duncannon is the only man who has the skills and the connections to negotiate it successfully. If his son is under investigation, or there is even a suggestion of it, it will handicap him enough to jeopardize the whole matter. The Chinese don’t trust us easily, which after the Opium Wars is hardly surprising! I wouldn’t trust us.”
“Replace him with someone else,” Pitt said. “Let him advise them from somewhere where he isn’t seen. They can report to him, and he can put his knowledge there, without anyone knowing.”
Jack lost patience. “For God’s sake, Thomas! It’s his standing, his
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