It was Sebastian’s turn to frown. “If not them, then”—he spread his hands—“who?”
“That, indeed, is the question.” Drake drummed a finger on the table. “Someone over there in the higher ranks should have known about this plot, but no one did. Of that, I’m quite sure. While the Young Irelanders, like any movement of its kind, has its more militant arms, I’ve never heard of a scheme of this ilk being run purely by the lower ranks with no one in the upper echelons even being told of it. No well-organized movement encourages such things—renegade actions, those implemented without the knowledge or approval of the higher councils, risk said higher councils losing control of the movement.”
Drake fell silent, then his finger stilled. After a moment, he murmured, “I wonder…could someone have seen the Young Irelander hotheads as potential hands to exploit?” Abandoning his sprawl, he leaned forward; with both forearms on the table, he cradled his goblet between his palms. His golden gaze was sharply intent and focused unseeing down the table. “Has someone been clever enough to manipulate a group of Young Irelander foot soldiers, including Connell Boyne, into thinking this plot is an officially sanctioned Young Irelander plot, even though it isn’t?”
“That would certainly account for Ennis suddenly wanting to speak with you.” Sebastian sipped, then lowered his goblet. “Consider this scenario—Connell, believing he’s acting for the movement, arranges in secret for the gunpowder to be shipped, then comes to England to visit with Ennis at Pressingstoke Hall and discuss the harvest and other estate matters as he always does at this time of year—and while he’s in Kent, to receive and hide the gunpowder, presumably directly off the ship, then to lead the men who arrive to take it on to London to the cavern. Either Ennis or Connell had to be there to show the ship’s crew where the entrance to the cavern was and, later, to guide those who came with a wagon to take the barrels away.”
“But,” Antonia said, “Ennis knew nothing about the plot, not until Connell arrived at the Hall and told him of it.”
Drake was nodding. “Do you know when Connell arrived in Kent?”
Sebastian exchanged a glance with Antonia. “I believe it was a week before the house party.”
“Yes.” Antonia said. “Cecilia confirmed that.”
“The timing fits,” Drake said. “Connell tells Ennis as soon as he arrives at the Hall. Assuming Ennis has been a supporter for years—and it’s Ennis who has the money in the family—then Connell would have expected Ennis to be as committed to the plot as he himself was.”
“Speaking of money”—Antonia glanced at Sebastian, then turned back to Drake—“we forgot to mention that we found a half-burned envelope in the grate in Ennis’s study after he was murdered. On the envelope was written ‘Three hundred pounds for’—but the rest had burned away.”
Drake nodded. “And that fits, too. It would have fallen to Connell to pay the ship’s captain for transporting the gunpowder, and so he had to tell Ennis all about the plot. Connell expected to have Ennis’s full and unequivocal support. But Ennis saw the plot differently—he wasn’t enthused at all. To his mind, such a plot would be a step too far—out of keeping with the movement’s direction and very possibly not in its best interests. Open rebellion on home soil and protests in London and in parliament are one thing. But blowing up some building in London? Ennis was politician enough to know what that would lead to.”
Sebastian snorted. “Even more heavy-handed repression.”
“Indubitably.” Drake paused, speculation growing in his golden gaze. After a moment, he went on, “I can imagine Ennis being prepared to give Connell the money to extricate Connell from this plot, even though Ennis intended subsequently to reveal all to the authorities—namely, to me.”
Sebastian nodded. “That’s why he insisted on meeting face-to-face. He would have demanded clemency, if not an outright amnesty, for his brother in return for revealing the details of the plot. Family loyalty—something to which we can all relate.”
“Unfortunately,” Antonia said, “in this instance, attempting to save his brother got Ennis—and his wife, too—killed.”
Both Sebastian and Drake grimaced, but neither disagreed.
After a moment, Drake said, “For all their hotheadedness, the Young Irelander movement is not stupid enough to do something like this—not even their militant arms. As matters stand, there’s no real benefit for them in it.”