‘Good, because if either of you decides to inform Lady Margaret or Lord Carlston, or anyone else for that matter, you will be in violation of your oath. High treason.’ Pike drew back his stooped shoulders. ‘Allow me to elaborate. Not only treason, but treason in a time of war. They would hang you, Mr Hammond, and it would be our duty to add the black charge of sodomy to your name.’ His cold gaze turned to Helen. ‘And beheading is still the method of execution for a treasonous noble, Lady Helen. It would be rather ironic, don’t you think, if you had the end that was going to be your mother’s?’
Helen jammed her fingers together, forcing her fear and fury into the tight weave of her flesh. ‘I have given my oath, Mr Pike,’ she said, glad that her voice did not quaver. ‘I am the daughter of an Earl. My word is my bond. It is a matter of honour and conscience; things you clearly know nothing about. You do not need to threaten me or Mr Hammond for us to do our duty.’
He regarded them both, his thin top lip curled in disgust. ‘A young noblewoman and a molly — you are the very essence of moral weakness. There could be no one in this world more in need of the impetus of fear.’
He gave her a small, ironic bow and walked to the door. ‘Send a messenger to me when you have struck the deal,’ he said. ‘I will arrange your access to the gold.’
And then he was gone, the door closing behind him. The sound of his footsteps receded down the staircase. Helen strained her Reclaimer hearing, picking through the sound of Lady Margaret pacing across the morning room floor, a maid singing off-key, and the scrape of pots in the kitchen, to finally find Garner murmuring ‘Good day’ and the front door closing.
‘He has left,’ she said.
Mr Hammond drew in a long breath. ‘Whoreson bag of shit!’
Helen flinched.
He glanced at her, his lips pressed together in contrition. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘I understand your sentiment, Mr Hammond.’ She smoothed out the skirt of her gown, trying to cover her own rage. How dare Pike call her morally weak. She had never broken her word, and she never would. ‘Perhaps I should learn such language for my male persona.’
He gave a mirthless smile. ‘It is probably the one thing I can teach you with more authority than his lordship.’
Helen returned his smile, but a new problem was taking hold. ‘What should we say to Lord Carlston and your sister? She will certainly tell him that Pike came to visit.’
Mr Hammond hunched over, his hands pressed to his face.
‘Mr Hammond?’ He made no move. ‘Mr Hammond!’
Was he sinking into despair? He must not; they had to stand firm together. She touched his shoulder. ‘Michael!’
He lifted his head and she saw that it was not despair in his face. It was fear.
‘I think we should stay with the truth as much as possible,’ she said, hoping her quick words would draw him back. ‘We will say that Pike came here to swear me into the Dark Days Club. No other reason. Will that serve, do you think?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly.’
‘Then that is what we will say.’ She smiled encouragingly, forcing back her own fear. ‘It will be as Pike says: a straightforward exchange. Then we will be done with it.’
‘Yes, done with it.’ He stood, hands clenched. ‘Lady Helen, I ask you … no, I beg you, please do not say anything to his lordship.’
‘Of course I will not say anything.’ She rose as well, alarmed by the anguish in his voice. ‘Pike has my oath on the matter, just as he has yours. Besides, I believe him when he says he would bring us both to ruin.’
‘No, not about the journal,’ he said. ‘About the other …’
Helen flushed at her own stupidity. ‘I will not say a thing; I swear it. But do you truly think his lordship does not know? He is a Reclaimer: he would have seen your devotion in your face.’
Mr Hammond bowed his head. ‘Of course he knows. How could he not? But there is a chasm between what is known and what is said.’
Helen nodded. There surely was, particularly when it came to Lord Carlston and Ignatious Pike.
Chapter Four
Lady Margaret walked across the morning room yet again, the tips of her fingers pressed into a ruminative steeple. ‘No, there must be more to Pike’s visit,’ she said, pacing back to the small tiled hearth. ‘He would not come all the way to Brighton to swear in a new Reclaimer. He would expect the Reclaimer to go to him in London.’
‘Not this time,’ Mr Hammond said from the armchair.
Helen, seated on the opposite chair, met Lady Margaret’s searching gaze with as much nonchalance as she could muster. ‘He does not have much faith in a female Reclaimer and Terrene partnership. He intends to test Darby before she is bound to my power.’
‘Test her?’ Lady Margaret sent a questioning glance to her brother.
Mr Hammond nodded. ‘Some new thing he and Sidmouth have concocted between them. A test to be given by himself and a Reclaimer when Lady Helen and Darby are fully trained. Most irregular. A slap in the face if you ask me.’
‘Is that why Stokes is here?’ Lady Margaret asked. ‘It seems odd that he has been pulled from Norwich with all the Luddite riots up there, especially since Lady Helen and Darby are not yet close to being fully trained. It does not make sense. None of it makes sense.’
‘What kind of man is Stokes?’ Helen asked quickly. ‘Is he Pike’s creature?’
‘Good heavens, no,’ Lady Margaret said. ‘Stokes is his own man, and a fair one by all accounts. He was in the Army until quite late. His abilities didn’t come to the notice of the Home Office until five or so years ago. I know Lord Carlston considers him both trustworthy and a friend.’
‘He seems very obedient to Pike,’ Helen said.
Lady Margaret shook her head. ‘I doubt it is from any particular devotion. Stokes was a soldier; he follows orders. And Pike has the authority of the Home Secretary to give those orders. He does what Pike says because he must.’
At the corner of her eye, Helen saw Mr Hammond flinch. As they all must.
‘You are right,’ he told his sister. ‘I don’t know if Stokes is here for the test or not, but all in all I think it is a slap in the face for Lady Helen.’
He was repeating himself, his words over-fast — the sure sign of a guilty conscience. Helen aimed a slanted look at him: End the conversation.
‘Pike has probably created the test to irritate his lordship,’ he added abruptly, rising from his chair.
Lady Margaret tilted her head as she considered the notion, her fingers twirling a long black ringlet arranged over her shoulder. ‘Maybe … he is a vindictive man. Still I am uneasy.’
‘I am too,’ Helen said. That, at least, was the truth.
‘We are all uneasy,’ Mr Hammond said. ‘That is Pike’s raison d’être: he likes nothing better than to create anxiety.’
‘But why did he exclude me from witnessing the oath?’ Lady Margaret asked. ‘I have taken my own vow, and I was present when you took yours.’
‘Probably to drive you mad with the wondering of it,’ her brother said. ‘Think no more on it, Margaret. He swore Lady Helen into the club and that is that. Pike and God move in mysterious ways.’ He turned to Helen with a small bow. ‘His lordship wished me to instruct you further on your male gait. Shall we repair to the salon?’