The Caged Countess

‘I see.’ It was not unusual. He should have expected it. The knowledge brought him back to earth; she was forbidden fare in every way.

Claudine said nothing. He did not see at all, but she wasn’t about to go into a lengthy explanation of her personal circumstances.

He sensed her reticence and knew he had no right to probe. ‘Forgive me. I digress. You were saying that you allowed your property to be used …’

‘Yes. Then, a few months later, while I was in London, I was approached again by the same gentleman to find out whether I was willing to become more closely involved. The work involved minimal risk—it was merely to act as a courier taking coded messages between London and the coast.’

‘And you agreed.’

‘It was easy and it was something worthwhile, far removed from the giddy social round.’

‘And then?’

‘Then, about six months ago, I was introduced to Paul Genet. His department was looking to recruit suitable candidates for overseas intelligence. He knew of the work I had done for his associates; I could speak French and was then entirely unknown to the authorities in Paris. I was ideal for what he had in mind.’

‘I can well believe it. He must have rubbed his hands in glee.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘He recognised a tool he could use for his purpose.’

Her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘No?’

The sarcasm was overt, as Duval had intended. Could she really be so naïve as to think Genet hadn’t used her? Part of the émigré population who had fled their homeland during the revolution, he had lost no time in establishing a new spy network, this time providing valuable information for the British. However, he was also working with those who sought to overthrow Napoleon and restore the French monarchy. Genet and his confederates were prepared to use any means to achieve that end.

‘No,’ she retorted. ‘It was my choice. I could have refused.’

‘The adventure could have got you killed.’

‘I was aware of that.’

‘And it didn’t deter you?’

‘No, why should it? The risks were explained and I chose to accept them. Genet is not to blame.’

‘Women should not be placed in dangerous situations.’

Claudine lifted one finely arched brow. ‘And yet men do that to them all the time.’

‘How so?’

‘Men expect their wives to bear children, do they not? Yet there is no more dangerous activity for a woman.’

He frowned. ‘It’s not the same thing at all.’

‘No, on balance, this is much safer,’ she replied. ‘In any case, it’s my life and I’d rather spend it doing something to benefit my country than living some kind of butterfly existence in London.’

‘It’s a laudable aim, but it’s over now,’ he replied. ‘This part of the network is finished.’

‘This part perhaps, but I’ll find another posting eventually.’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘Was this not a close enough brush with disaster?’

‘It was unfortunate, but it’s the nature of the business.’

‘A business you would do well to stay out of in future.’

‘Will you stay out of it in future?’

The tone was quietly challenging, something that rarely happened in the sphere of Intelligence work, and it provoked in him an upsurge of annoyance. ‘This is my occupation, not an amusement that I took up to help me overcome boredom.’

Claudine’s hands clenched in her lap. ‘I do not deny boredom, but I do deny that this is mere amusement.’

‘I’m relieved to hear it.’

‘Genet employs me because I am good at what I do.’

‘You still required rescuing.’

‘And of course no-one else ever does.’ The sarcastic tone was an exact imitation of his. ‘In the entire history of espionage I’m the first.’

‘I don’t know about the first, but I’d wager that you’re the most argumentative.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. A woman mustn’t do that, must she?’

The lowered eyes and dulcet tone didn’t fool him for a minute. Her manner was impudent and provocative in equal measure, the kind of quiet insubordination that would have been easy to deal with in a man. In this case the options were severely limited.

‘I cannot imagine what is troubling you,’ he replied.

‘It doesn’t.’ She eyed him speculatively. ‘May I ask how you came to be involved in all of this?’

He was tempted to refuse; the past was an area he preferred to leave alone. However, she had been open with him to a surprising degree.

‘Originally I was with Wellington in Spain,’ he said, ‘but then I was injured and rendered unfit for active service.’

For a brief instant he was back in the field hospital after Vittoria, lying on the makeshift operating table in the surgeon’s tent where the air was heavy with the stench of blood and sweat and fear. Through the red haze of pain he could hear the screams of the poor wretches under the knife and the saw. He’d lost an eye that day along with half his face and a large quantity of blood from the sabre slashes to his shoulder and arm. They’d stanched the bleeding and sewn him up as best they could. Initially, he had lost much of the function in his left arm, although time and careful exercise had mended it eventually. Nevertheless it was the end of his army career in the Peninsula.

‘Do you miss it?’ she asked. ‘Active service, I mean?’

‘At the time it was a blow, but there is no point in lamenting what cannot be changed.’

He had understated the case. Separated from his erstwhile comrades and the life he had loved it had been like a form of exile. Having to deal with men like Genet did nothing to enhance the experience. Even so, what was the alternative; to go back to England? To go home? He hardly thought he’d be welcome there, given the circumstances. In any case it was too late to mend fences now.

Although she could not follow his thoughts, Claudine sensed the tension in him and sought to change the subject.

‘Have you relatives in England?’