A Fine Passion (Bastion Club 4)

Anthony started to shake his head, then winced and stopped. “No. But…just before it happened, before the phaeton tipped, I knew—knew he meant to run me off the road. He stared at me, looked into my face.” Anthony’s gaze found Jack. “He did it deliberately.”

Grim-faced, Jack nodded. “So it seems.”

Anthony grimaced. “When I knew there was no help for it, I jumped, but the phaeton rolled on top of me.” He glanced down at his legs.

“One’s broken, but mending well, as is your arm. Other than that, it’s all bruises and wrenched muscles.” Jack caught Anthony’s gaze. “You’ll be hale and whole in a few months.”

Relief filled Anthony’s face, making him look much younger.

“Now,” Clarice said, “what’s this about James being under investigation?”

“Before you get to the message your brother sent,” Jack smoothly cut in, “fill in the gap between leaving your brother and reaching here.”

Anthony smiled, faintly apologetic, at Clarice, then turned to Jack. “Teddy sent for me. I met him in the shrine in the grounds at Lambeth. I was surprised he’d told me to go there, but as it turned out, he didn’t want anyone to see him speak with me.”

Clarice, lips tight, raised her gaze and, across Anthony, met Jack’s eyes. Clearly, despite Teddy’s caution, someone had seen the brothers talking.

“Teddy told me about the allegations against James and asked me to come straight down and warn you.” Anthony looked at James, rather sheepishly. “I had a dinner to attend that evening, but I left first thing the next morning.”

“You stopped somewhere along the way.” Jack leaned forward. “Swindon?”

Anthony nodded. “I left Swindon after breakfast but I wasn’t entirely sure of the way, so I went to Stroud first. Longer, but at least I didn’t get lost.”

His voice was less strong; he was clearly tiring. Clarice kept her lips shut, but caught Jack’s gaze and widened her eyes at him.

He looked at Anthony. “All right, now tell us about these allegations. Better yet, try to tell us exactly what Teddy told you.”

Anthony sighed; he closed his eyes, a frown creasing his brow. “Teddy overheard a conversation between the bishop and the dean. He was passing the bishop’s study, and the door was slightly ajar—Teddy heard James’s name, so stopped and…he heard that there’d been allegations made that James had been hand in glove with the French, not just recently but over the past decade.

“The accusations were that James was passing on strategic analyses of Wellington’s campaigns, as well as information he’d gleaned about troop strengths and movements from the soldiers he interviewed. When one of the deacons at the palace first warned the bishop about it, the bishop dismissed the whole as scurrilous rumors, but then the deacon returned with more details and…the conversation Teddy overheard was the bishop telling the dean that they would have to treat the matter seriously—that it did indeed appear truly serious—and so they would have to investigate James.”

Anthony paused, then opened his eyes. “That’s all Teddy heard because Deacon Humphries—he’s the one who’d brought the allegations to the bishop’s notice—came into the corridor and Teddy had to move on. Teddy saw Humphries go into the study, presumably to give the bishop all the information he had.”

James had stiffened at the mention of Humphries’ name. Studying James’s face, Clarice found it unusually unreadable. “Who’s Humphries?”

James blinked, then grimaced. “He’s another scholar…well, would-be scholar. He also specializes in military strategy, although in his case purely battlefield tactics.”

“So he’s a competitor of sorts,” Clarice said.

James grimaced again. He glanced at Jack. “Years ago, Humphries and I were the principal candidates for the fellowship I still hold.”

“So,” Jack replied, “not just a competitor but a rival.”

James sighed. “Unfortunately, Humphries does see it that way.”

“Still?” Clarice asked. “You were made a fellow more than twenty years ago.”

James nodded, his expression one more of sorrow than anger. “When I go up to town to do research, I stay at the palace. The bishop has always been interested in my work, which of course means Humphries hears of it, too. He’s never been slow to show that my success, then and now, rankles. You see, without the fellowship, and without the livings I hold, he has to support himself via his duties, and so has little time for his research.”

“So he resents you,” Clarice said.

“I fear so.” James looked troubled.

Jack straightened. “Regardless, if there’s to be an investigation, then we need to learn the substance of Humphries’ allegations.”

“Teddy might have learned more by now. I’m sure he would have tried…” Anthony’s lids had fallen; hi

s voice was increasingly weak.