[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
the continent during the war?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"You were supposed to be furthering your research in the classics."
"I did what I could, especially when I was in Italy and Greece. But a great deal of my
time was spent on Crown business." Harry selected a hothouse peach from the basket.
"Now that the war is over, however, I can think about going back to the continent for
more interesting purposes. Would you like to go, Augusta? We shall take Meredith, too,
of course. Travel is very educational."
Augusta arched a brow. "Is it me or your daughter you feel needs the education?"
"Meredith would no doubt profit the most from the experience. You, on the other
hand, do not have to travel outside our bedchamber in order to further your education.
And I must say, you are a very apt pupil."
Augusta was scandalized in spite of herself. "Harry, I vow, sometimes you say the
most improper things. You should be ashamed."
"I beg your pardon, my dear. I had not realized you were such an authority on the
proprieties. I bow to your greater knowledge of such matters."
"Do be quiet, Harry, or I shall dump what is left of our picnic over your head."
"As you wish, madam."
"Now, then, tell me how you can be so certain my brother was not also involved in
secret work for the Crown."
"The odds are that if he had been, he would have worked for me, either directly or
indirectly. I explained that a chief portion of my duties consisted of directing the
activities of others in the same line of work. Those people, in turn, collected a vast
amount of information from their contacts and relayed it all to me. I had to sort through
the bloody stuff and try to glean the wheat from the chaff."
Augusta shook her head in amazement, still unable to envision Harry in such work.
"But there must have been a great many people engaged in that sort of thing, both here
and abroad."
"Too many, at times," Harry agreed dryly. "During wartime spies are rather like ants at
a picnic. A great nuisance, for the most part, but it is impossible to conduct the event
without them."
"If they are as common as insects, Richard could have been engaged in such activities
and you might not have been aware of it," Augusta insisted.
Harry munched his peach in silence for a moment. "I considered that possibility. So I
made some inquiries."
"Inquiries? What inquiries?"
"I asked some of my old friends in the business to see if Richard Ballinger had by any
chance been officially involved in intelligence work. The answer was no, Augusta."
Augusta drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them while she grappled
with the finality of Harry's tone. "I still think my theory has merit."
Harry was silent.
"You must admit there is a small possibility that Richard had gotten involved in such
work. Perhaps he had discovered something on his own and was going to take the
information to the proper authorities."
Harry remained silent as he finished the last of his peach.
"Well?" Augusta asked, trying to conceal her anxiety over his answer. "Won't you
agree that there is at least a chance that was the case?"
"Do you want me to lie to you, Augusta?"
"No, of course not." Her hands clenched into small fists. "I merely want you to agree
that you could not have known everything there was to know about intelligence activities
during the war."
Harry nodded brusquely. "Very well. I will agree to that. No one could have known
everything. There is a great deal of fog surrounding war. Most of the actions, both on and
off the battlefield, take place in a gray murk. And when the fog clears one can only count
the survivors. One can never really know all of what happened while the mist was
shrouding things. Perhaps it is best that way. I am convinced there is much it is better not
to know."
"Such as what my brother may actually have been doing?" Augusta challenged
bitterly.
"Remember your brother as you knew him, Augusta. Keep the last of the bold, daring,
reckless Northumberland Ballingers alive in your memories and do not tease yourself
with what may or may not have lain below the surface."
Augusta lifted her chin. "You are wrong about one thing, my lord."
"And that is?"
"My brother was not the last of the Northumberland Ballingers. I am the last one of
the line."
Harry sat up slowly, his eyes cool with warning. "You have a new family now. You
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]