White Horses

There was a moment of silence. “And you want that escort to be me?” the earl asked at last.

Herries shifted on his chair. The earl hadn’t changed his own position, but there was a dangerous look in his eyes. Herries cleared his throat. “That’s right, my lord.”

“May I ask whose idea it was to attach me to a circus?” the earl asked, his pleasant voice in contrast to the look in his eyes.

Herries could not bring himself to meet that blue-green gaze. “Lord Castlereagh put forth your name, my lord. As you can understand, he is quite anxious that the gold arrive as safely and as promptly as possible. Wellington will need it to finance his next campaign and his subsequent entry into France.”

Silence. Finally the earl asked with awful courtesy, “Am I supposed to—perform?”

“Of course not, my lord,” the two men chorused in horror.

The earl linked his long, manicured fingers together on his lap. “Then how are we to account for my sudden attachment to a circus? I speak French, but not like a Frenchman. And I’m not the sort of person who just blends into the background,” he added ironically.

“We have thought about that problem, my lord, and we have come up with a solution,” Herries assured him. “You will pretend to be Gabrielle Robichon’s new husband.”

This time the earl’s eyebrows almost disappeared under the lock of golden hair that had fallen over his forehead. “What?”

Herries said earnestly, “It is the only way to disguise you, my lord, other than making you a performer. Mademoiselle Robichon’s family will have to know the truth, but the rest of the circus performers will think you are married.”

“I see,” the earl said slowly. “I am to pretend to be the husband of a circus owner.”

Herries and Rothschild exchanged glances. Neither one of them dared to answer.

There was a long silence.

“I suppose I shall have to do it,” the earl finally said. “It’s essential that the money get to the army.”

For the first time Herries realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly.

Rothschild said, “Thank you, my lord. I realize that this duty may be distasteful to you, but we do feel it is necessary.”

“And the girl is willing to pretend that I am her husband?”

Rothschild nodded decisively. “She agreed.”

The earl asked, “What’s in it for her? Are you paying her to carry the gold?”

Rothschild said with dignity, “Of course I will pay her, but she is also doing it because she knows her father would want her to. François Robichon was a royalist through and through.”

The earl unlaced his fingers. “Where am I to meet this circus?”

Herries said, “I think it would be a good idea for you and Gabrielle to meet in Brussels. That is where you will tell people that you were married. Then you can return to the circus together.”

“Very well.” The earl stood up. “I imagine you would like me to get started as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my lord. Gabrielle will be waiting for you at the Hôtel Royale.”

“Is there any particular name I am to go by?”

Herries said, “You could use your given name, my lord. I don’t think anyone would recognize it.”

The earl smoothed one of his sleeves. “Very well. I will meet this Gabrielle and go with her to the circus, where I will pretend to be her husband. What about the gold?”

“It will be loaded into the circus wagons before you get there, my lord. You should be able to start your journey immediately.”

“How long will it take us to get to Portugal?”

“If you get the gold to Biarritz, the army will take it over the Pyrenees to Wellington,” Rothschild said. “The journey from Lille to Biarritz should take about a month, my lord. The circus will have to make stops to perform. It would look suspicious if it didn’t.”

The earl’s finely chiseled lips settled into a grim line. “The things I do for my country,” he said. “Very well. I will leave for Brussels tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my lord,” both men chorused. After the earl had gone and the door was closed behind him, both Herries and Rothschild looked at each other. “Couldn’t Castlereagh have gotten someone who was not quite so noticeable?” Rothschild said.

Herries shook his head. “He wanted Lord Branford. Said if anyone could get the money through, it was he.”

Rothschild said, “I hope he was right, Herries. I hope he was right.”

Outside, the earl got into his chaise, tipped the boy who had been holding his grays and started the horses, driving through the city streets toward Grosvenor Square, where his town house was located. He pulled into the mews behind the house, relinquished his horse and carriage to one of his grooms, and went into the house from the back.

He was surprised by his eighteen-year-old sister in the hallway in front of the library.

“Oh, there you are, Leo,” Dolly cried. “Mama and I have come to call on you.”

“Have you?” he asked. “And whose idea was that?”

“Mine. Come into the drawing room and join us.”

“I can’t stay long, I have things to do. I am leaving for the Peninsula tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Dolly was clearly upset. “So soon?” Her gaze dropped to his injured leg.

“I am perfectly healthy. There’s no reason for me to linger in England when my regiment needs me.”

“But there is a reason,” Dolly lamented. “I wanted you to help me with my come-out. I thought you could be my escort to Almacks when I make my first appearance there.”

“Good God,” the earl said. “Whatever put that into your head?”

“Well, there is one other thing you can do for me. Come along and talk to Mama,” Dolly said, and, taking her brother’s arm, steered him past the magnificent circular staircase into the marble-floored front hall and thence into the drawing room, which looked out onto Grosvenor Square. Sitting on a gold velvet sofa in front of an alabaster fireplace was a lovely middle-aged woman whose hair was so fair that it scarcely showed the white that had begun to streak it.

“Hello, Leo,” she said quietly.

“Hello, Mama,” he replied. He made no attempt to go to her. “This is a surprise.”

“Dolly dragged me. We are planning her come-out and she has a question she wants to ask you.”

His eyes, the same shade as his mother’s, moved to his sister’s animated face. “What question?” he asked.

His sister looked at him pleadingly. “Please, can we use the ballroom here at Standish House for my come-out ball? It would be so wonderful to have it here. If we have it at Jasper’s house we will have to use the drawing room, and it isn’t very big.”