Page 47 of His Wicked Secret
“I did.” Avery glanced at the window behind Waverly at the sight of movement down in the gardens below. Some distance away from the house, a woman was walking in the gardens, a little boy following behind her, catching her skirts. It was a woman he recognized - Melanie Burns. At least, that had been her name before she married Waverly. Melanie had been briefly engaged to Avery’s eldest brother, Lucien. The engagement had been broken off, much to the relief of the Russell family.
“What was the nature of your work for the Home Office?”
“I was a precis writer.” That was a clerical position. His job had been to prepare a brief abstract of all important dispatches sent or received by the Home Office. He’d also entered the dispatches and abstracts into a book for clerks to consult when required.
“Ah, yes, that’s right. And moved up the ranks to a decipherer?”
“That’s correct.” It turned out he had an aptitude for decoding messages and ferreting out hidden meanings in intercepted correspondence.
“And then you were trained in following, reporting, and infiltrating groups that the Crown deemed a threat?”
Again, Avery nodded. Waverly had to know his background, so he wondered why the man was questioning him.
“I have a mission that is rather precarious. We have received word that a small sect of men, revolutionaries, have been gathering in France. Do you remember when the Duke of Berry was assassinated?”
“Yes, last year at the Paris Opera.” Avery remembered that incident all too clearly. The Home and Foreign Offices had been abuzz with the news. The Duke of Berry was the younger son of the Count of Artois, the brother of Louis XVIII.
“And what is your assessment of the situation in France?” Waverly asked.
“Well,” Avery said as he leaned back in his chair, “the French succession has been put into question. The count’s oldest son, the Duke of Angouleme, is childless. The lack of any male heirs might mean that the throne could pass to the Duke of Orléans and his children. But the Duke of Berry’s widow gave birth to a child last September.”
“We have reason to believe that if Louis XVIII dies, the Count of Artois will succeed him, and then his grandson through the Duke of Berry won’t matter to succession.”
“And you think he won’t be as accommodating to the liberal government?” Avery speculated. He’d come across enough reports in recent years to sense that the Count of Artois would likely ruffle the feathers of many and might cause another revolution.
“That is exactly my fear. And having an unstable French government puts ideas into the heads of radicals, like the reformists we’ve recently learned about. We can’t do much to stabilize the French court itself, but wecansuppress revolutionaries while their activities are still in the cradle, as it were. The last thing we need are for those ideas to be successful and catch on over here.”
Avery leaned in, his voice lowering. “What is the mission?”
“I would like you to take a small team to France and see what you can learn from the French court firsthand. There is also the small matter of a reformist group of English traitors near Calais. We need that group infiltrated as quickly as possible and brought down. I want names and locations of meetings. Once you’ve done that, you’ll move on to Paris and the royal court.”
“Whom will I be working with?” He began mentally assessing a list of individuals he’d worked with before.
“I would like Sheffield to go with you, and I’ve been hearing that Miss Sheridan is proving to be a worthy asset. What’s your opinion of her?”
“She’s still somewhat inexperienced,” Avery said cautiously, “But she has talent.”
“A lady is always a useful spy, especially in France. The gentlemen of the court are easily distracted by fluttering skirts and pretty smiles.”
Avery tilted his head, considering Waverly’s choice. “We do have several people in our employ with more experience. Miss Mirabeau, for example…”
“I won’t deny Mirabeau’s considerable skills,” said Waverly. “But she is French, and this opening gambit will require the appearance of a youthful outsider. Our other current assets are either already engaged or, shall we say, too seasoned?”
Avery considered this. It could work, but it was not without complications. “Miss Sheridan is unmarried. She will need a chaperone, a female to come with her or her brother, but given that her brother’s new wife is expecting, I doubt he’d wish to run off to France.”
“I’ve already come up with an idea. Miss Sheridan will travel as Sheffield’s wife. He’s young and attractive and will make a convincing husband for her. They need not share rooms; it is common enough that married couples sleep apart.” Waverly then looked out the window where they could see his wife. Melanie was now seated and watching the small boy toddle about on chubby legs. She likely had no idea they could see her from the second story of the house.
“You said Sheridan’s wife is expecting?” Waverly’s voice was quiet now.
“Yes, she is. Now about this Sheffield marriage, I’m not sure her brother would approve. What if word reached London and people assumed it was true?”
“It won’t be under their real names. An alias will be provided, of course. And they can always divorce.” Waverly chuckled as though at some private joke.
Avery balled his hands into fists and rested them on his knees. There was something not right about this, but he couldn’t place what was bothering him. Waverly must have noticed, because his tone turned somewhat condescending.
“Now, now, none of us do our duty without some degree of risk. If Miss Sheridan wants to play the spy, she must be ready to face the consequences of her deception. I’m sure nothing will come of it. We wouldn’t be doing our jobs correctly if it did.” Waverly pushed his chair back and stood. Avery did the same.
“When is this mission to begin?” Avery followed Waverly as the other man walked through the door of the study.
