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“Speaking of which, how did your meeting with Lady India go?”
“It was exactly as you said. I had no luck at all.”
“So she’ll be going to Paris as well. That’s a complication, but it shouldn’t be a hindrance. Could even be useful.”
“Wait, there’s more. I...” There was no easy way to say this. “We kissed. And a newspaperman may have walked in on us.”
“Good God, man, how did that happen?”
“We were at Banksford’s residence and Mr. Peabody of theObserverwas there to interview him about his steam engine.”
“Well this does complicate things.”
“Complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it. You’re going to read some very unusual details about our upcoming nuptials in the paper. It’s all hogwash. We’re not really going to marry.”
“I see.”
Those two words held volumes of unspoken meaning.
He saw that Raven had lost control.
He saw that Indy was his weakness. His Achilles heel.
Malcolm studied the paper he held. “You’ve passed the tests. By the skin of your teeth, mind you.”
“You’ve already had my debriefing. It was an impossible situation. There were four of them and two of us. They caught us unawares.”
“You’ve suffered an injury. No shame in taking a holiday.”
“Save your concern for someone who needs it.”
“I think you’re ready to go back out but there are others who might question my decision.”
“You mean Lord Grey.” He was Sir Malcolm’s direct superior at the Foreign Office and there were those who said he could become the next Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
“He’s concerned about your stability.”
“Just give me my marching orders and I’ll see the job done.”
“See that you do,” said Malcolm. He handed Raven a dossier with the wordconfidentialprinted across the front. “Here’s the latest intelligence on Le Triton. Also profiles of Beauchamp at the Louvre, Ambassador Petrov and... Sir Charles.”
“Why Sir Charles?” Raven was confused by his inclusion. He knew the British ambassador to France quite well.
“We’re afraid he’s gone somewhat feral. He’s taken Margot Delacroix as his mistress and may be feeding her information.”
Margot Delacroix, the most alluring of the Paris demimondaines, and the most dangerous. She was a French royalist agent who would stop at nothing to keep the Bourbon regime in power. She was also Le Triton’s close associate. Because of her ties to the underworld, Raven had shared her bed once, more than three years past. She hadn’t betrayed any confidential information, and Raven had admired the skill with which she had attempted to manipulate him to her purposes.
Sir Charles was playing a hazardous game.
Raven placed the dossier in his pistol case.
“Engaging Le Triton will require a bargaining chip,” said Malcolm.
“The Wish Diamond. He’s been after it for years.”
“A rumor will soon spread through Paris that you’ve made bad investments and are in need of cash. Your cover is that you’re in Paris to sell the diamond necklace but you won’t go through an intermediary. You’ll arrange a face-to-face meeting with Le Triton, inside his fortress.”
“I’ll make the deal, or I’ll take his base by force.”
