"A contingent of us was sent to Austria to work out the particulars at the Congress of Vienna prior to Wellington’s arrival," James said, "Meanwhile, Stephen, Merriweather, Roth, Holt and Salisbury were working in Brussels and France gleaning information from informants. Shortly after Wellington ’s arrival at the conference, it was announced that Napoleon had, in fact, escaped from Elba and was returning to France. What I want to know is, what were you doing there?"
Flanders narrowed his eyes. "It matters not, as it is." He snorted. "Funny how you have figured that out, yet you have no idea who is really behind the whole thing."
"You killed my father," Calliope said.
"I was second in command, and I did the dirty work. But I wasn’t the one responsible for the organization."
Flanders emitted a strange noise, like he was trying to say more, but his mouth caught in a sickening position as he slumped to the floor, his pistol dropping harmlessly beside him.
"No, you weren’t," a new voice agreed.
Calliope stared at the stiletto protruding from the inert form on the ground, then slowly moved her gaze to the silhouette in the doorway. Lord Holt strode nonchalantly into the room, gun cocked and poised.
Curdle’s gun was still pressed firmly against her side, although the weight of the little man was shifting. He was obviously trying to decide what to do.
Holt stared at the man behind Calliope. "Curdle, correct?"
He must have jerked his head in the affirmative, because he didn’t make a sound.
Holt smiled. "Good. I think we can work out a deal between us. I know what you want. You can have her and be well compensated for your time."
Calliope was unaware of what was happening behind her, but whatever it was, Holt seemed satisfied.
James and Stephen were preparing to move, their faces tense with concentration.
"Tut, boys. At this range Curdle can’t miss killing Miss Minton if you persist on playing the heroes."
Curdle grasped Calliope’s hair, yanking her head back. Pain radiated through her skull. They stopped.
Holt slipped into the blue padded armchair near the door. His actions were casual, but he kept his gun trained on James. Another pistol was tucked into his waistband.
"Thank you for gathering together. It saves me a lot of trouble."
"I was going to expose you. The invisible power behind the French conspiracy, " James gritted.
"Naughty boy, you didn’t tell me Stephen was alive. But it was a fact that one of my spies remedied. Without that small slip, you had me convinced I was in the clear."
"You had a Falcon ring, and I would never suspect you of being a follower. You could only be the leader of such an organization. Furthermore, you are the only one who could have pulled any of this off. No one else had the contacts. And you never had to soil your own hands; all you had to do was appoint spies to key positions as diplomats and agents. If anything went wrong, they would take the blame. You were the perfect double agent with the perfect motive-the illegitimacy of your son. I should have killed you earlier."
" Yes, perhaps you should have."
"Who found your son’s real birth certificate?"
"The French, obviously, and then Flanders stumbled upon it. Of course, he was ecstatic when he found it. He figured he had something on me should his ring ever be found. And then the ring was found. I made sure you, Angelford, were out of the way and flashed the ring to Stephen at his debrief, hoping he would discover Flanders, and that one would kill the other. Flanders was greedy, but not an idiot. He had Curdle, here, plant Edmund’s real birth certificate on Ternberry in order to show me he was serious with his threats. Ternberry, the poor fool, came to me the minute he found it, a huge mistake on his part."
"Why kill Ternberry at Pettigrew’s?"
"I didn’t attend the party; no one could connect me to the event. There were plenty of people present on whom to cast blame. Flanders, Pettigrew, the two of you, even Roth, if I had desired to try that tack."
"Why did Ternberry return to the party?"
"I informed him that I wished to confront the villains, and he agreed to accompany me. Poor fool. Always did have an inflated opinion of himself. "
"So, all this time you and Flanders have been trying to frame each other. How trite."
"No, Flanders was trying to frame me. I was trying to kill him." Holt shrugged. "Looks like I won."
Calliope broke in. "I thought you and my father were friends."
"We were, my dear. We were the very best of friends. Unfortunately, the French found Edmund’s damn birth certificate. Used it against me. When your father started investigating the intercepted messages between our camp and the French, I had to make a choice."
"A choice?" Calliope’s voice came out strangled. "A choice as to whether to murder your friend?"
"Edmund would have been ruined, all our lands dispersed to some country bumpkin of a cousin. Edmund couldn’t be made to suffer for Salisbury ’s persistence." Holt gripped the gun tightly.
"His persistence to identify the traitors? You’re crazy."
"No, I am merely living within the limits of the nobility. I would think you, with all of your guises, always living on the fringe of society, would understand."
Calliope stood motionless.
Holt smirked at her in amusement. "You, Angelford, and Chalmers have been blessed by great fortune. I thought Curdle here would have done you all in long ago. Chalmers somehow survived the beating by Flanders ’s men and drowning in the Thames and Angelford survived being shot by my highwaymen. And you, my dear, have survived not one but two fires. A pity you didn’t die long ago with your lovely mother."
"You bastard. My mother did nothing to you."
" Flanders always liked fires a bit too much. Seemed to think they hid all his mistakes. She had evidence that was damning-his ring. But it seemed to have survived the fire. How was that?"
She said nothing.
"It doesn’t make a difference in the end." He sneered and rose. "Now, then, what should we do, my dear? You have been a thorn in my side and caused me no end of trouble."
Calliope saw a flash and rose on her toes to block Curdle’s view of the doorway. He jabbed her hard in the spine. She winced, but spoke quickly to keep all attention on her. "You betrayed your nation, you abused your position of trust and you masterminded the deaths of friends. I think maybe you should run."
It worked; Holt swung his gun toward her.
"Really? How quaint. And why is that?"
A voice laced with contempt spoke from the doorway. "Because you’re one step behind, old man."
Holt turned his gun toward the voice. There was an explosion.
A look of shock was etched in Holt’s face as his body jerked to the carpet. His gun fell to the floor a few feet in front of him.
Calliope looked to the door. The tendrils of smoke swirled around Roth’s handsome face.
"Curdle, is it?" Roth kept a second gun trained on the foul-breathed man.
"Get out of my way. Me and the lady here are leaving."
Roth cocked an eyebrow. " Really? And how do you propose to get past me?"
"I’ll kill her if you don’t let me through."
"Then it will just be you, Chalmers, Angelford and me. Not a pleasant scenario for you, I think."
"I’ll take my chances."
Stephen inched across the bed, moving closer to Holt’s gun. James crept toward her.
Curdle must have noticed the movements, because he pushed her toward the doorway and whipped the gun from her back, firing at Roth.
Click. Misfire.
There was a moment of silence and then pandemonium. Calliope fell forward. James hurdled toward her as Stephen dove for Flanders ’s discarded gun.
James grabbed her arm and yanked her diagonally. Calliope saw Curdle drop and pull the knife from Flanders ’s back. Two shots were fired.
She landed in a heap on top of James.
"Callie? Are you hit?" Stephen rushed over and separated them.
It was hard to tell. There was blood splattered and splotched all over her clothes, but most of it had been from her hands, hadn’t it?
James started prodding her in the side.
"Ouch! Stop that."
Relief crossed his features. "If you can yell at me, you’re fine."
Curdle lay in a heap on the floor. She didn’t know who had shot him, and she didn’t care.
Stephen gave her a squeeze. Everything hurt, including reassuring squeezes.
Roth was poking through Holt’s clothes. Finn entered the room and Roth looked up and nodded. Finn gave her a concerned look. "Everyone unhurt?"
Calliope nodded.
Roth smiled. "Good. But you look awful," he said to Calliope. "I’ll summon a doctor." He ducked out of the room.
"Where did he come from?" Calliope asked.
Finn answered. “Said he followed Holt here. I met him at the front gate. He didn’t seem surprised at the hubbub."
"I shared my suspicions with him at Pettigrew’s after we found Ternberry. I didn’t get a chance to update him today. I’m just glad he appears to be a step ahead, as usual," James said, running a hand through his hair.
Curdle’s legs disappeared from the doorway as Finn dragged him out. Flanders and Holt still littered the floor.