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“What assault?” he interrupted her. “Sidney’s only charged with minor embezzlement.”
She told him the story of Rebecca Thorwood.
“Ah,” he said softly. At last it made sense to him. She heard it in the change in his voice. “That is much uglier. And even more reason for the Foreign Office not to make a case of it. You’re right, there’s far more behind it than we can see at the moment. Does Patrick intend somehow to bring the assault out?” He did not ask the question he really meant: Did Patrick engineer the embezzlement evidence so that Sidney would come to trial and the assault would come out?
“He can’t,” she said quietly. “He’s not a witness to anything.”
“But he wants Daniel to?”
“It’s a terrible thing for someone to break into the one place you believe you are safe—and where you are so vulnerable. Wouldn’t you want to see somebody punished if they did that to me? Or the girls?”
He heard the note of anger, and more than that, of fear in her voice. “Is that how you got so much leave to come here? Over a month altogether, with both voyages?”
“What?”
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart. I simply thought Tobias…I mean, through Tobias Thorwood’s influence.”
“I…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe. But he doesn’t have any influence in the British Embassy! Or, more importantly, in the Foreign Office!”
“I hope not. But not as much is impossible as we would like to think,” he replied. He put his hand out and touched hers very gently. “I’m going to find out, for my own sake, as well as for yours.”
“And Daniel’s,” she added.
“And Daniel’s,” he agreed.
* * *
—
PITT DEBATED WHETHER to approach Daniel. It kept him awake for more of the night than he allowed Charlotte to know. He turned the matter over and over in his mind, and by morning he had come to a conclusion. Whether it was the right one or not remained to be seen.
He said nothing of it to Charlotte. She was busy preparing to take the whole family to see her sister, Emily Radley, and enjoy the little time they had before Jemima would have to return to America.
By ten o’clock, Pitt was in the Foreign Office. As head of Special Branch, and with the delicate state of so many international relationships, especially in Europe, he gained almost immediate access.
“Good morning, Sir Thomas,” the Foreign Secretary greeted him. “What can I do for you? Not more bad news about that Balkan business, I hope?”
“Not at all,” Pitt replied. “Another thing altogether. I’ll be brief. I know you have a ten-thirty meeting. So do I. It’s about this wretched embezzlement in our own embassy in Washington. I’m sure you know about it?”
“Yes.” The Foreign Secretary shook his head. “Damnable. Don’t know the details. Embarrassing, but nothing I can do now. If that’s what you want, I don’t think I can help. Is it tied up to something of yours? Damn. Stupid question. Fellow defending him is called Pitt. Your son, I presume?”
This was exactly what Pitt had dreaded. He knew Daniel would hate it even more. And blame him! “Yes, he is,” he conceded. “It seems against our interest in every way to make a public case of it, and there’s worse than that that could come out.”
The Foreign Secretary’s face was bleak. “What?”
“Apparently Philip Sidney also broke into the Thorwoods’ house.”
“Tobias Thorwood?”
“Yes. Sidney denies it.”
“God damn!”
“He assaulted the daughter in her bed and tore a pendant off her neck.” Pitt thought he m
ight as well get it all out at once. “She screamed. Her father came running and caught up with Sidney in the corridor. He escaped, but not before Thorwood saw him clearly enough to identify him.”
“Is that what this is all about?”
