Ghost of Christmas Past (3 page)

“
We have to move out tomorrow. There is a place up in
Leicestershire that needs our attention. Fornier has been sighted
up there so we have to go and check it out,” Jacob whispered as he
blew on his hands to get some warmth back into them.

“
I hope it isn’t a wild goose chase like last time,” Rupert
grumbled. He sighed and pushed away from the wall to head back
inside only for Jacob to place a hand on his arm.

“
Can I make a suggestion?”

“
Go on, I know you will anyway.”

“
I think that at some point you need to at least go and see
this Thea of yours. You have no idea where her life is now or what
she is doing. She may be happily married. If she is then you can at
least walk away with your conscience intact and at least try to put
it all behind you.”

If he
was honest, Jacob had no idea why Rupert felt as guilty as he did
for the accident that had maimed his bride-to-be. After all, it
wasn’t as though he had been driving the carriage himself and,
although the marriage had been an arranged one, they had both been
prepared to go through with it. Thea had been on her way to the
wedding when the carriage had skidded on black ice and landed
upside down in a field. So why did Rupert feel so guilty? He had
lost Thea but, by the sound of it, he hadn’t fought all that hard
to keep her either. Jacob had heard enough about John Weatherby to
know that as one of London’s most highly regarded philanthropists,
he regularly gave money to many worthwhile causes that benefitted
all walks of society. Thea had to have been given the best medical
provision John could afford and, if anyone had any chance of a full
recovery it was going to be her. He just couldn’t understand why
Rupert didn’t seem all that inclined to go and find her, especially
given the depth of feeling he clearly still had for her.

With a
shake of his head Jacob waved toward the dimly lit tavern behind
them. “Let’s go back in and have a drink.” He knew before he had
finished his sentence that Rupert was going to purloin a bottle or
two from the bar and disappear to his room. Sure enough, his
suspicions were proven correct when Rupert shook his
head.

“
No, I am off to bed. I intend to get some sleep while I have
the chance.”

Minutes
later, Jacob watched Rupert head to the bar where he collected
three bottles before he sprinted up the main stairs to his room. He
had known Rupert for at least three years now, and his colleague
had done the same thing each year. At the anniversary of the
accident he got blind drunk and stayed that way for at least two or
three days. He would then immerse himself in the most dangerous
work he could find.

Unfortunately, with each year that passed, Rupert grew a
little darker, a lot more determined, and more than a little
ruthless.

CHAPTER
TWO

“
God, it is
bloody cold out here tonight,” Marcus grumbled from beside
him.

Rupert
nodded and stared down at his feet as he wiggled his toes. They had
frozen over several hours ago and he struggled not to stamp his
feet in an attempt to get some sensation back into them. He was so
cold now that he was fairly certain his lips were blue.

The last
time he had seen blue lips on a person had been the day that he had
crawled over Isaiah’s dead body to get to Thea. He shuddered and
quickly turned his thoughts away from the macabre scene that
surfaced with his memories.

For some
reason, his conversation with Jacob the other night still plagued
him. Although he had retreated to his room and drunk himself into
oblivion, as soon as he had sobered up he had immediately found
himself starting to consider his friend’s suggestion. Was he right?
If he found her and spoke to her, would he finally be able to lay
the ghosts of the past to rest? Over the years he had often
wondered where she was but had always been busy with the army and
the Star Elite to even consider finding her again. However, his
recent work with the Star Elite had started to feel a little
uncomfortable, as though he was working for a cause but wasn’t
quite sure why. It made him wonder whether now was the time to
revisit the past so that he could get on with his future; whatever
that might be.

It was a
possibility that refused to be ignored and he soon found himself
thinking about where she could be. He was a fully paid up member of
the Star Elite, one of the country’s finest group of fighting men
who worked for the War Office. It shouldn’t be hard to find out
where she lived now. Had she moved to uncle’s house in Mayfair once
her recovery was complete? He did know that she had never returned
to Weatherby Hall, and that her mother had been forced to leave the
huge mansion by John shortly after the accident.

Rupert
carefully tucked his thoughts aside for now and turned his
attention back to the job at hand. Somewhere across the village
several of his colleagues, Harry, Lucifer, aka Luke, Joshua,
Brendan and Jacob were all hidden in the shadows, watching and
waiting in the hope of spotting the two French spies they were
after. Edward Snope and Philip Chester, otherwise known as Philippe
Laurant and Saul Guerin; were just two of the four remaining French
spies still at large in England somewhere, and the Star Elite had
received reliable information that they were in this particular
village for some reason.

So far
in their investigation the Star Elite had successfully captured a
long line of traitors who had established a chain of safe houses
for several French spies to live in while they arranged fresh
identities and the finances necessary to adopt English identities
and establish positions that enabled them to spy on the country.
Although most of the chain, and the ring-leaders, had been either
captured or killed, there were four spies still at large, Guerin,
Levant, Dubois and Fornier.

Harry
and Marcus had just returned from assisting one of their
colleagues, Stephen, to bring about the arrest of the fifth spy,
Rousseau, who had reluctantly provided them with information that
had led them to the small village of Buckleridge in the wilds of
Leicestershire. Why the spies were so far from the coast heaven
only knew but, given that the chain of command the Frenchmen had
established had been lost and their lives were now in jeopardy, the
Star Elite could only assume that they had ‘retired’ to the country
to lie low for a while and arrange to return to their native
country.

Although
at first they had found nothing unusual about the sleepy little
village in the middle of nowhere, Luke had caught sight of someone
who matched Snope’s description leaving a small cottage in the far
corner of the green earlier that afternoon. They had decided to
stage a watch of the house and were now waiting for someone to
return. However, it was nearing midnight and so cold that Rupert
was certain he was going to be frozen to the spot and unable to
fight anyone if the need arose.

He
tucked his mouth into the woollen scarf wrapped tightly around his
neck so that the air didn’t fog out before him and let out a heavy
sigh. Beside them, the old thatched pub was starting to wind down
for the night. The loud laughter had long since dimmed to a dull
roar and several patrons called a cheery goodbye as they had
stumbled out of the door and dispersed into the
darkness.

“
It’s a wild goose chase,” Rupert sighed. If anyone other than
Hugo had interviewed Rousseau, he would have sent a request to the
jail for a professional to re-question the convict. However, Sir
Hugo was the best in the business and had forwarded the information
to his men personally, so it wasn’t down to Rupert, or anyone else
for that matter, to question the man’s abilities.

Still,
he was cold, wet, and thoroughly miserable and, not for the first
time, wondering what the hell he was doing. He could be beside the
fire in Bainbridge, with a full stomach, the dog at his feet and
nothing better to do than read or stare into the flames. He quickly
closed that thought out as his treacherous mind immediately put
before him the image of the empty hearth chair opposite. It seemed
to taunt him that Thea should be seated across from him and that
someone very important was missing from his life.

He had
long since decided that without Thea, he had no intention of ever
retiring to enjoy Bainbridge, the country estate that had been in
his family for generations. Much to the consternation of his
father, Rupert had sent word before he had left Portsmouth that he
was in the army and about to leave the country. He never had
received a response and wasn’t even sure if he was still welcome at
the Samuels’ ancestral home.

It was
of little consequence really because Rupert didn’t want a home to
himself. If he remained with the Star Elite, he could fight to take
the edge off his anger, and lodge in whatever place had a warm, dry
bed. He would never have to think about staff, duties or
responsibilities to anyone other than himself. If he died doing his
job then word would be sent home to his family. They would ensure
that he was at least buried in the family crypt at Bainbridge. What
they did with his body seemed to be of little consequence though.
The most important part of him, the part that really and truly
mattered; his heart; had been buried four years ago. He was a mere
shell of a man now and happy to remain that way until the good Lord
parted him from the earth.

Until
then, he had a job to do.

He
shifted and nudged Marcus as a large, black carriage rumbled to a
stop outside a row of cottages to the left of them. The coachman
made no attempt to get down and drop the step to allow the
occupants out and instead remained still and motionless on the top
seat.

Rupert
studied the coachman and horses. From several feet away it was
impossible to get a good look at the driver’s face. The top hat he
wore cast the upper part of the face into shadow. The lower part of
the face from the nose downward was covered by the heavy swathes of
material wrapped around the face and neck. A long cloak covered
what was rest of him so it was impossible to tell if the man was
thin or fat, tall or short. The large whip in his hand was held
aloft but not used on the horse that was as black as the
nondescript carriage it pulled.

Eventually, the carriage door opened and a dark figure
emerged. He had only ever seen a roughly sketched drawing of
Guerin, but knew from the description that had been attached that
the man who had just descended from the carriage was him. Rupert
watched him jump out of the coach and disappear into the cottage
without a backward look but had gotten a reasonably good look at
his face to be able to recognise him. He remained perfectly still
and waited for the coach to pull away, confident in the knowledge
that Luke and Brendan, who were on horseback and watching the
village’s roads, would follow the coach. Between them, the rest of
the Star Elite would keep watch on the front and back of the house
to see who else turned up, or left.

As soon
as the carriage rolled out of sight, Rupert and Marcus left their
hiding place and disappeared into the shadows. They crept silently
around the outskirts of the village toward the back of the house
Guerin had disappeared into where they met with Jacob and
Harry.

“
Any sign of the three?” Harry asked. Everyone shook their
heads.

“
The coachman was too heavily disguised and cannot be
discounted as one of them,” Rupert whispered.

“
I think that Dubois is in there but only caught a fleeting
glance so cannot be sure. There is at least one other person in the
house, apart from Guerin,” Jacob replied with a scowl.

“
I was too far away and he was too well covered to see much.
Did anyone get a good view of the driver?”

“
Nope, but I think that he is too well covered to be just
hired for the journey,” Joshua sighed.

“
Do we know where Guerin went? If he met anyone?”

Everyone
shook their heads.

Rupert
bit back a curse of frustration and shuddered as a cold blast of
air snuck up his back. He hated the country. At least by the sea
there were things to look at and it wasn’t as barren as mile upon
mile of rolling hillside. He couldn’t understand why anyone would
want to live in such an out of the way village as this one. There
must only have been two hundred people in residence and they were
at least five miles away from the nearest main road; it was a
ridiculous little place designed for hardship rather than
convenience.

“
We will keep watch and see if the coachman comes back on
foot, or if Guerin goes out again,” Harry mumbled around a
yawn.

“
We will get some sleep while we can and take over from you at
dawn,” Rupert whispered. He didn’t relish his colleagues their turn
on watch. It was difficult to know which was worse, having to stand
outside throughout the night, or having to leave a nice warm bed at
the inn so they could head out into the cold to stand in the dark.
Either way they would all end up shivering, miserable and hungry by
morning.

The inn
was silent by the time Rupert and Luke made their way upstairs. The
darkened corridor was lit by a solitary candle that rested on a
small table against the wall. Unfortunately, its feeble flame did
little to light the long hallway but neither of them were all that
bothered by the shadows. In deference to the other patrons in the
hostelry who were asleep by now, neither man made a noise as they
headed toward their rooms. Rupert lifted a hand to wave his
colleague goodnight and had only just opened the door when a sudden
flurry of movement to his left was immediately accompanied by
several loud thumps from behind him.