The Intrigue

By Elizabeth Connell

Returning to London after a year in exile, Coletrane is recruited into the Foreign Office to work as a spy. He has everything going for him - tall, dark and handsome, smart, and charming. But his nemesis causes him agony and fear creeps in because he is never sure who it is; even suspecting him in the capture of Chad in Paris. Spies are rife among the Emigre community in London and plots against the British must be solved.
When Napoleon abdicates, the Sovereigns of Europe come to London to celebrate. Lord Castlereagh chose him and Chad to infiltrate the various countries' intrigues. Then they are sent to Vienna for the Congress. When an English lady spy brings him news of a plot, they pit their wits against some of the most dangerous French spies. Will romance follow?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098316471

Book preview

The Wedding That Wasn’t

He appreciated his surroundings. The magnificent church was a feast for the eyes; steeped in history, and redolent with incense. The morning sun shone through exquisite stained-glass windows; Corinthian columns outlined the side ones, repeated by the larger columns supporting the huge, barrel-vaulted ceiling. Enchanted by the splendor, Darrell found himself thinking about marriage as he waited for his cousin’s wedding to begin. His desire to marry Anne Delford ended in failure. Perhaps he had learned a bit about love since then.

A near-death in Dublin last year resulted in a change of how he looked at life. Being more introspective, he realized how selfishness ruled him for years. Now he wanted to be useful—wanted to serve his country. With the war still going on in Europe, there were many opportunities to make a difference. Perhaps after it was over, he might find someone to marry.

Weddings are usually the backbone of a family, thought Darrell.

He listened to the vicar’s sonorous words of the wedding ceremony, If any of you know just cause or impediment why these persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, come forward now.

As usual, a pregnant pause gave everyone the opportunity to respond. Silence held them spellbound until the huge doors opened with great violence and a man ran in, shouting, Stop the wedding!

The soldier ran up the aisle much distressed; blond hair disheveled, eyes wild with anguish. This bride is betrothed to me!

That is not true! shouted the startled bridegroom.

The vicar, overwhelmed by this unnatural scene, saw the man come face-to-face with the groom; anger radiating from him.

You stole her from me while I was away fighting a war, you scoundrel, he spat out; hands clenched at his sides.

That’s not so, Miss Beckworthy accepted my proposal!

Lord Hector Beckworthy rose to his feet from the front row, but before he could speak, fists began to fly. Tall and slim, Humphrey Beales did not compare favorably to this soldier with his muscular physique. In a moment, it appeared he was getting the worst of the fight. Deciding it should be stopped, Darrell stepped between the angry men, receiving blows before he separated the fighters by grasping each by the shoulder.

That’s enough, gentlemen. This is not the place for your quarrel.

The groom glowered at Darrell, as though he wanted to punch him too, blood running down his face. Lord Beckworthy approached to protect his daughter as she stood back from the fray, staring in shock.

This discussion will move to the chapel, he said as he motioned them to follow him. The congregation sat silently until the combatants left the nave, then murmurs and exclamations arose. The mother of the bride sank into tears of humiliation.

When the group removed, he was unsure whether he should go, but hoped his uncle could handle the fracas. Concerned for Bernice, he wondered what this was about, since it seemed most unusual.

Vicar Lambert came back to the nave. The gentlemen wish for your presence, Mr. Coletrane, come with me please.

As he entered the room, he perceived three angry men and a sobbing bride.

Lord Beckworthy spoke first. Well, nephew, as usual you acted without thinking. How could you cause embarrassment to Humphrey?

Surprise gleamed in Darrell’s eyes, but he kept his composure.

An intervention appeared to be the best course to quell such a public display of emotion, sir.

Still holding his handkerchief to his bleeding nose, the groom glared at him.

Thank you, but I can handle myself. Now it appears otherwise after your arrogant interference. Name your seconds, Mr. Coletrane.

The expressive right eyebrow rose as he held Humphrey’s angry gaze.

No! My cousin only tried to help, said Bernice, turning to her father.

This change of events made his lordship realize the subject of the quarrel was being overshadowed by the proposed duel; the fact that the wedding was interrupted was more urgent.

This is not the time or place for this. The issue is the conflicting claims for my daughter’s hand. The whole family can feel humiliation after this unfortunate scene.

He looked at the two young men as he spoke; Now, Mr.?? By god, I don’t even know your name!

My name is Captain Mark Littleton, at your service, sir.

Well, I want to know the substance of your claim. Mr. Beales, you will refrain from interruption.

All eyes turned to the soldier, whose face revealed righteous indignation at the manner of this request, but he knew he must bare his soul to have any hope of keeping his beloved.

Your Lordship, I courted your daughter during her come-out Season.

The would-be bride was overcome; head bowed in shame.

When I received my orders to return to Spain, we entered an understanding that she would wait for me, then we would marry—with your permission, my Lord.

Pain and hope were revealed in his eyes. No encouragement could be seen from either his lordship or Miss Beckworthy, and Humphrey glared again but kept quiet as ordered.

Growing uncomfortable, Darrell felt like a voyeur in this intimate confrontation. Clearing his throat, he said, "I fear I am de trop, sir. This conversation would be better in private."

Yes, I will take my family home. These two gentlemen may call on me this evening. My daughter is too distraught to talk now.

After bowing, Darrell turned briskly and walked out of the room. The guests lingered, probably waiting for news; but he could not presume to speak, so returned to his seat.

Soon, Beckworthy approached the vicar; who announced the postponement of the wedding; thanking everyone for coming. The family retired to the chapel.

When Sir Giles Coltrane greeted his son, he said, What a to-do! Did you quell another bout of fisticuffs?

Eyes holding a devilish gleam, he said, No, Father, once was enough. The groom called me out!

For saving his skin? What is his claim?

Apparently, I humiliated him.

Saved him from a beating is my guess. Now, how is the problem of two grooms to be resolved?

As he helped his father out to his coach, he said, There is to be a meeting with Beckworthy this evening. I’m sorry for Bernice, she is overwhelmed; but will need to face the situation to decide which one she wants to marry.

The wedding breakfast was cancelled, so Darrell took his father to White’s for luncheon, where they greeted several acquaintances. Over luncheon, their conversation came to Darrell’s position at the Home Office.

How is Lord Carter treating you, son?

Since I am one of the newest, I get simple tasks, but he always treats me with the utmost civility when we meet; probably from his respect for you, sir.

Pleased to hear it; are you satisfied?

Sitting for a moment before answering, he said, Well, Father, I have not yet had a duty that was worthwhile—making appointments, running errands, glorified clerical work, I’d say.

It’s a beginning for you. Can’t start at the top, you know.

Nodding his head, he hid his amusement. A sermon, by Jove!

As they started to leave, a greeting made him turn to see who had spoken.

Chad! Extending his hand, they shook with a strong grip.

Haven’t seen you in ages. A big smile showed his pleasure.

This is my father, Sir Giles Coletrane. Father, this is Chad Peterman, a school fellow.

When Chad saw that he was leaning heavily on his cane, he said, Darrell, would you be available for dinner this evening?

They made plans quickly before they left; Father was in pain, and he must get him home.

A hackney coach took him to Harley Street, since he seldom walked in the city anymore after the lesson he learned in Dublin. The landlady took him upstairs to Chad’s plain rooms, then the manservant received Darrell’s hat and cane, and took him to the parlor. Entering the room with a broad smile on his face, they soon began to reminisce over old times.

Do you remember Dawson from Oxford? Saw him in Portugal last year, now a Colonel in the Hussars; military life suits him.

When were you there?

Been there on-and-off for several years.

Oh, I hadn’t heard that. What regiment are you with?

Leaning forward, he said in a soft voice, Special Services. After giving a moment to take it in, he added, I am attached to the Foreign Office, doing undercover work.

As he revealed this, Darrell thought, why is he disclosing this to me?

Takes all kinds of service to win a war, said Darrell.

With a grin on his face, he said, Information is crucial. After a short pause, he added, I heard you are at the Home Office now.

Yes, I’m still learning about the government; struggling to find something useful.

The servant announced, Dinner is served, sir,

During the meal, they talked of sports and women.

So, you’ve never married?

Slowly he replied, No, but I came close once—the other man won the lady. How about you?

Well, I prefer to wait until this war is over before I wed.

Actually, I thought at my cousin’s wedding this morning that I look forward to having one of my own at St. George’s in the future—such a magnificent church. But you’re right; not the time to start a new marriage.

Later, as they lingered over their Port, they reminisced some more about schooldays and their youth.

That was a long time ago. Some of my crazy larks are best not recalled.

Right you are! Remember the time . . . No, I won’t embarrass you. I was glad to meet your father, although he did appear fatigued.

Yes, a rather a long day for him, since he suffers with the gout.

This fracas at St. George’s this morning—you stopped a fight I hear. Good show!

Laughing, he said, Saved him a beating, but he showed no gratitude—called me out for humiliating him!

That seems harsh, what was his reason?

So, Darrell explained the dual grooms and the boxing match, adding a little spice to make it comical.

Then he said, I’m curious about what your Service is, Chad.

Studying him as they talked, Chad had made a decision.

Have to tell you, I seldom speak about my work with anyone but my confederates, but I know I can trust you. He filled their glasses again, and settled for the story.

It covers a broad territory; has brought rewards, and been dangerous—gathering facts to assist the army and navy to help them make decisions and maybe win battles. One of the most common espionage jobs in Europe is finding out each other’s plans. Must infiltrate the enemies’ operations to obtain valuable intelligence, and sometimes false information is passed. It takes a cool head to accomplish these things and I think you would be good at it.

While Chad explained, Darrell was turning it over in his mind.

Since I am just learning about the procedures of the government, I can’t see doing this type of work without the why, where and when background.

True, it helps to understand it, but it is not necessary, believe me. My first operations were quite simple and there was a network for support. You are needed, Darrell.

Although Chad was not a striking-looking man, he had a friendly demeanor, with blond hair falling over his forehead; eyes gray, his nose and mouth average. About medium height, he moved with ease rather than with Darrell’s athletic grace. He could become lost in a crowd, Darrell thought.

First, I must take some time to determine whether I will pursue this further.

Understood, and I’m sorry to drop it all on you, but it was the perfect opportunity. Perhaps we should meet again in a week?

Yes, thanks.

The morning after the cancelled wedding, Beckworthy paid a call on Sir Giles and Darrell. The butler showed him into the library where Giles was going through his mail.

Good morning, I hope I find you well.

"Yes, thank you. What brings you out so early?"

A look of pain crossed his face. Where is that young lad of yours? Owe him an apology.

When Darrell came in, they exchanged greetings. It was evident he was dressed for riding and was about to leave the house, and Hector couldn’t help but admire his nephew’s savoir-faire.

Came to apologize to you, Darrell, he said in his pompous manner. Said some things I shouldn’t have yesterday in the heat of the moment.

Thank you, sir, but I was not offended at such a tense time. How is my cousin?

Sadly, Bernice is not doing well since she was embarrassed by those two young whippersnappers; met last evening but did not resolve the matter, so I called a halt to either one marrying her under the circumstances, and I have ordered that there be no contact with her for a month. Time is what she needs to reflect on this horrific event and how it can be resolved.

Raising his eyebrows upon hearing the result of the fracas, Giles said, You know your own daughter best, but this is rather harsh for a young woman who was almost married yesterday.

Hector looked pained. Perhaps Bernice will suffer harm to her reputation but there should be a protracted period of consideration. Don’t want to ruin her chances for her future, but neither do I want to see two suitors fighting over her. Humphrey has a nasty temper and it is impossible to have a discussion with him, since he disregards the feelings of others.

Having a devilish look in his eyes again, Darrell said, Well, Uncle, I don’t know either man well, but I must say that the Captain showed courage. Think he would make a good show of himself at Gentleman Jackson’s boxing salon. In reality, he was protecting his rights to the bride he had assumed would be his.

There will be a loser in the end. Let’s hope Humphrey will try to be sensitive of the Captain’s position and be fair. She may lose both!

After several days, Darrell realized the idea Chad had expressed held his interest. Work at the Home Office was mostly clerical, like research and setting up meetings for the under-secretary. Reviewing the potential, he determined it would take time, maybe years, before he could rise to any meaningful level where he would be in on the decision-making. If he desired to make a difference for his country, he would have to be patient.

The need for reforms in England kept rearing its head, but the government leadership tried to quash it and continue with the current system. The danger of suppressing so much of the population when many people suffered did not seem to worry them. When he learned about the outrageous conditions under which a large portion of people lived, Darrell wished he could do something. The slums in the cities kept growing and the cost of bread rising. Sometimes he went to the worst areas, purchased meat pies from the vendors and gave them to the children on the streets.

The war in America dragged on and seemed senseless; taking many lives and causing damage. Why had Britain gotten into it? Already fighting on the Peninsula, the army was spread too thin.

The country needed every advantage possible. Should it mean doing some spying . . . By the end of the week, Darrell became more convinced that he might be helpful, so decided to talk with his father before going to Chad.

Well, son, I never expected this.

Sorry, Father, but I’ve given it a lot of thought and realize I may be of more use there than in the Home Office. The war on the continent must be stopped. If I can be a small part of it, I will do so. I’ll meet with my friend again, to review the options.

The frustration you feel is understandable—they move like snails at the Home Office. Find out all you can from this fellow before you commit yourself.

Yes, sir. Father would wish him well but had just gotten used to having him home after his year in Ireland.

The meeting with Chad was drawn out and covered many topics, explaining operations he had been involved in and the results. Many times, facts were found that tipped the scales for the British. Then they reviewed the details: how Darrell would be transferred to the Intelligence Division of the Foreign Office, how he would be trained, and how he must keep it all secret.

Agents must always be on the lookout for anything unusual; something which may be a clue to a plot by the enemy, even here in London. Then it becomes a way of life; your senses stay alert and you always watch what you say and do.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about some of Chad’s experiences, with details of how missions had been carried out. The questions Darrell asked indicated his keen mind, just like he was at Oxford. Chad had no qualms bringing him into this difficult business. He admired Darrell’s maturity, considering his reputation in the past as a rogue.

He stood at the top of the wide stairs; surveying the crowded ballroom with a slight smile on his handsome face, the dark curly hair set off his amazing deep blue eyes, which gleamed as he raised his right eyebrow. His elegant attire was worn with a stylish flair—the exquisite black coat and pantaloons relieved by a splash of color on his embroidered waistcoat and the sparkling white of his cravat, tied into the Mathematical fall. He portrayed a gentleman of the Ton who knew what he wanted; at six-and-thirty he had the self-confidence to take on anything.

A hand fell on his shoulder.

What do you think? said a deep voice. Shall we go in?

Turning slightly, he looked into the dark eyes of Lord William Smithson. Controlling his surprise, he deepened his smile.

Yes, it is the usual squeeze.

More pretty girls to meet, he said as they walked down the steps. The Castlereagh Ball always drew a crowd.

The two gentlemen were soon surrounded by friends and acquaintances and became separated. Darrell wondered why he had been approached and a foreboding flashed through him—he did not trust the man.

Shall we show them how the Quadrille should be danced, Lady Strangford?

Delighted; she said Of course, Mr. Coletrane.

Dancing with her was a joy; tall and willowy, she had the face of an angel, but the look in her eyes suggested otherwise. The flashing dark eyes held a mystery, such as sultry nights and possibilities, but he took care not to encourage her. He relaxed into the dance, knowing his work would soon take him abroad, and he must keep a clear head.

Since Smithson favored the debutantes, he danced with several. What happened to the chaperons or did the title overcome their sense? Darrell thought.

Later that night, he enjoyed a brandy in his father’s library. In a reflective mood, he looked back over his life as he often did now, and his thoughts turned to Dublin and his friend Colin Brownlow; whose family had contributed so much to his recuperation from his injuries. Staying in their home, experiencing their spiritual devotion and kindness had started him on his road to redemption.

Remaining friends of the Beverlys, after his letter of apology and their forgiveness, he realized he had not been worthy of Anne; and Joseph had been the perfect match for her. Someday, he thought, I will meet the woman meant for me.

Having received an assignment in Paris, they got details and their cover names. False papers provided the characteristics of their persona. Since Darrell moved well in society, he would be a visiting diplomat and Chad would investigate some leads in the underworld. This mission was a simple plan to get information from Napoleon’s minions who were involved with preparations for the next battle; including procurement of supplies.

The two men sailed on a Navy frigate, and met a confederate in Calais who took them to Paris. As a diplomat, Darrell stayed in a classy hotel and went to public places where diplomats and officers gathered; presenting himself as worldly and sophisticated. A French gentleman, Monsieur DuPries, was his contact.

After a superior dinner, they sat over their wine. He scanned the room, and saw a party being seated near their table. His eyes remained for a moment on the beautiful woman facing him. Her companion was trying to entertain her, and she softened her demur countenance with a laugh, lighting up her whole face—it was amazing. Turning back to Monsieur, he watched the lady surreptitiously, especially her interesting green eyes.

After more drinks in the lounge, DuPries made up to two women who obviously would join them; so, he played along with the charade, but as he sat talking with his designated date, the mystery woman entered the room. Eyes met—one pair green and one blue. She reacted; raising her eyebrows for a moment, stunning him, then both looked away, but the memory lingered.

DuPries acted like a lady’s man, easily charming the fair madams into dancing. Soon they adjourned to the Frenchman’s rooms. The more he drank, the more DuPries’s tongue loosened and Darrell obtained the facts he wanted. After some time with the woman, he pretended to fall asleep, then he extricated himself and left the room.

The next day, he went to a tavern frequented by