‘Ask me what you will and I will answer as truthfully as I can.’
‘I know that you and my late brother were colleagues, and that the work you undertook was concerned with intelligence.’
‘That is so.’
‘What I need to know are the details concerning his death. Until those are established the rightful heir cannot succeed to his inheritance. It is a matter of supreme importance for my family.’ Harry paused. ‘But, quite apart from the legal reasons pertaining to this, there are more personal ones.’
‘I understand.’
Harry nodded. ‘If you will, then, tell me what occurred that day.’
‘It was during the British push for Toulouse. We—your brother and I—had been on a mission to gather intelligence about French troop numbers and movements. The situation was chaotic as it always is in times of war, and reliable information hard to come by. We were sent ahead to reconnoitre and then report back.’
‘To whom?’
‘To Sir George Scovell.’
Harry lifted an eyebrow. He knew the name well. Originally part of the Fourth Queen’s Own Dragoons, Scovell had proved to be an expert at deciphering codes, in particular the Grand Chiffre which had provided the allies with information crucial to Wellington’s victory at Vittoria. Scovell had also been in charge of the motley crew known as the Army Guides, men of differing nationalities, chosen for their linguistic abilities and other individual skills, who had gathered information vital to the war effort.
‘I see,’ he said. It was quite true. The bigger picture was now beginning to emerge with startling clarity. Yet it should have come as no surprise to discover that Jamie had worked for Scovell. The man had only ever employed the best.
‘The river was running higher and faster than was usual,’ Xavier went on. ‘However, the nearest bridge was ten miles away, and we had reason to believe it was being held by the French in any case, so we decided to risk the crossing.’ He sighed. ‘Jamie went first. It was ever his way.’
‘Yes, it was.’
‘He was about halfway across when his horse stumbled and lost its footing. It went down and took Jamie with it. I saw him come to the surface but he couldn’t find his feet because of the current or the uneven river bottom—or both.’
Harry felt a chill prickle along his neck as he experienced a moment of déjà vu—he saw Elena’s horse stumble and fall, saw her pitched into the water, felt its cold shock on his own flesh as he went in after her... With an effort he controlled his voice.
‘Go on.’
‘Jamie surfaced and struck out for the shore.’
‘My brother was a strong swimmer. The distance would have been easy for him.’
‘Yes, but he was wearing a heavy greatcoat and boots as well as his other clothing. And he was armed. The weight must have dragged him down and then the cold and the current did the rest.’ Xavier paused. ‘I rode in after him but it was as though the river had swallowed him up. I rode downstream for some way, hoping he might be washed ashore, but there was no trace of him.’
Harry drew a deep breath, seeing it all in his mind’s eye. In the same way, but for the grace of God, he might have lost Elena. The parallels were uncanny and he felt suddenly cold.
‘I’m sure you did all that you could,’ he said. ‘What happened afterwards?’
‘I continued with our mission. Jamie insisted that if anything were to happen to one of us, the other would ensure that the task was completed. I knew I must keep faith with him. Therefore, as agreed, I reported in with the military information and informed the authorities of his loss.’
‘Another of my older brothers was serving in Spain at the time. He tried to find you after he was given the news, but could not.’
‘Sir George had more work for me to do and, as usual, I was not permitted to divulge its nature to anyone, nor where I was going.’
Harry could well believe it. Personal grief had no bearing on the machinery of war, and Scovell would never have employed a man who could not be discreet.
‘I feel privileged to have met and worked with your brother, a man both trustworthy and likeable.’
‘Thank you.’ Harry smiled faintly. ‘He had that effect on many people.’
‘You must have cared for him very deeply, I think.’
‘Yes.’ Just then Harry found it impossible to articulate his feelings. Although he had known the broad outline of the story for a long time, hearing it related at first hand brought it home more sharply than ever before, underlining the reality of his brother’s death. With an effort he gathered his thoughts. ‘Will you set down the facts in writing, and then swear to their veracity in front of witnesses?’