Circle of Spies (The Culper Ring #3)

The blasted heat wouldn’t let up. She shook her head. “We were not…” But they were, when it came down to it. They certainly wouldn’t have behaved so if Dev or Mother Hughes were around. “And we did not…” But of course that was a blatant lie. She had always been sneaking off to the stable to find him.

And they both had the gall to enjoy her discomposure. She had no choice but to straighten her spine, lift her chin, and sweep past them. “Insufferable jackanapes, the both of you.”

Their laughter followed her to the carriage house.





Twenty-Six


Devereaux stepped off the train in Washington City with thunder in his veins. Six days had gone by since the attack on Marietta, and he had nothing to show for it. The imbeciles that passed for police officers in Baltimore had done absolutely nothing, and his own inquiries had led to dead ends.

Granted, it had relieved a certain amount of stress to knock a few ruffians stupid in the process of getting names from them. But none of them had given him any helpful information.

And Marietta, blast her, had barely spoken to him. Even Mother had noticed it and asked him if they had quarreled.

He would not lose her. It was bad enough, the news they kept hearing of the war in the South, of the state of General Lee’s troops, of the continued failures of the KGC. He couldn’t lose her too.

He had only a cryptic note in his pocket to lead his feet through the streets of Washington, but he needed no more. He told himself to enjoy the warming weather, the perfect sunshine, the promise of a meeting with his brothers.

Somehow, seeing Surratt and one of his cohorts going ahead of him into the Herndon Hotel only set his teeth on edge.

Surratt caught sight of Devereaux in the hotel lobby and held up to await him. “Where is Osborne?”

Devereaux strode by. If he paused, he might just hit the man. Why did he think he had the right to question him? “Attending other business. Where is Booth?”

“New York. He said he told Osborne.”

He let a grunt suffice for an answer and headed for the stairs. Osborne had, in fact, said something about it, but Devereaux had been trying to organize a shipment of gold bars and had been distracted.

But the gold was now in place, hidden away in the back of the rail yard. Not far from the crates of rifles and ammunition. His part was coming together nicely. He had only to smuggle another shipment or two into Baltimore, and then he could take the entire lot by rail to the mountains. A month at the most—a fortnight, he hoped. Then, assuming the attacker were found and taken care of, his world would settle again until the time came for the next revolt.

Assuming this other business didn’t foul everything up. He let Surratt knock on the correct door and cast a gaze over at the other man. The so-called doctor—nothing but a cover story, that, to excuse his frequent visits to the room—gave him a strained smile.

Devereaux wasn’t inspired. Striding through the door the moment the occupant, “Wood,” opened it, he turned to face the other Knights with a frown. “I don’t intend to stay. I just want to make sure you have your plans well in hand. This will be your last chance, gentlemen.”

“We know that.” Surratt shifted from foot to foot. “We won’t fail. We have our list of those we will seize, and we will snatch them all at once.”

Wood studied Devereaux with obvious concern. “I apologize, sir, but we are not acquainted. Who are you?”

Of all the…he glared at Surratt, who cleared his throat. “This is our captain, Mr.—”

“No names.” If they weren’t telling him theirs, they certainly weren’t getting his. “Have you men enough for this?”

“With Booth and Osborne, yes.”

“Good. Now, funds. Who will be securing them?”

Surratt lifted a hand. “I have a trip to Canada planned. With our permission from the Confederacy in hand, the agent in Montreal ought to be willing to disburse.”

“Excellent.” Devereaux pulled out his watch. He still had business to attend in Baltimore, and no desire for it to cut into his evening. “Just remember to use one of the ciphers when communicating by wire, and trust no one outside your own circle.”

He looked at them again, these men supposedly as dedicated to the Knights as he himself was. Whether or not they would have the gumption to carry out the tasks with prison or death as a consequence was yet to be seen for some of them. “Be careful. If you get even a strange feeling from someone, keep your distance and seal your lips.”

Surratt drew in a long breath. “You can be sure of it, sir.”

“Good. My orders from Richmond keep me busy, but if you need my input, do get word to me.” He didn’t wait for Surratt or one of the others to ask what kept him busy but merely gave them a nod and left the room. The day would certainly come when all the Knights would learn of the existence of the caches, when they would be instructed in how to follow the signs to them.