Alexandra was shaking her head. “No, that couldn’t be possible, could it? You parted friends with Georges. Goodness, Douglas, it was years and years ago, before the twins were even born.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Who is this Cadoudal, Father?”

Douglas looked at James, who was standing, shoulders against the mantelpiece, arms crossed over his chest, exactly in the same way that Douglas stood, and said, “Georges Cadoudal was a madman and a genius. Our government paid him vast amounts of money to kill Napoleon. He killed a lot of Frenchmen, but not the emperor. I heard he’d died some time ago.”

Willicombe entered, carrying a beautiful Georgian tea tray on his arm. Douglas remained silent until finally, seeing that Willicombe could think of nothing that would allow him to remain and eavesdrop, and thus know more than Hollis knew about this situation, whatever it was, raised an eyebrow.

But Willicombe didn’t move, couldn’t move. Something bad had happened, that was all he knew. The family was in trouble. He was needed. It was time to prove his worth. He tried manfully to dredge up a wise word. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, Willicombe?” Alexandra asked.

He could tell she was so upset she was white as the lovely lace at the neck of her gown. He drew himself up to his full five foot, six inches and squared his shoulders. “I am your man, my lord. I am resourceful. I learn quickly what is what. I could pick out an enemy from fifty feet. I am a man of action when the need but offers itself. I am the soul of discretion. Pull out my fingernails and nothing will pass my lips but an occasional scream.”

James looked at Willicombe with great respect. After all, when James was born, Willicombe was a footman who’d occasionally played with him in the back gardens, tossing him a red ball, James remembered. “Nothing but a scream, Willicombe?”

“That’s correct, my lord. I can be trusted to go to the grave carrying any secrets you would wish to confide in me.”

Douglas said, “I thank you, Willicombe. Fact is, it appears that someone with revenge on his mind is out to cut my days short, something I really don’t want.”

Willicombe stood en pointe.

“I will assign the footmen to guard duty, my lord. I, myself, will take the first watch, eight o’clock until midnight, each and every night until the enemy is dispatched. No one will come into this house, this I swear.”

“How many footmen are there, Willicombe?” James asked.

“There are three now, Master James. I will myself tell them what is what. You don’t have to worry, my lord.”

“Thank you, Willicombe,” Douglas said. “I am certain that Hollis would be very impressed with your resourcefulness.”

“Robert, the second footman, my lord, comes from a noxious area near the docks. He still knows some of the miscreants there. I will have him sniff around to see what he can learn.”

“That is an excellent idea, Willicombe,” Alexandra said and gave him a big smile.

They watched Willicombe stride from the room, taller, straighter, a man on a mission.

Jason stood. “Did Georges Cadoudal have family? Children?”

“I believe he married a woman whose name was Janine. I don’t know about children.”

Jason said, “We must find out. Now, I’m off to visit my club. I want to know if anyone has heard anything.” He rose, straightened his waistcoat.

James said, “Father, we both have friends who will want to help. I don’t think we should keep this a secret. I think we should announce to the world that someone-some Frenchman-is trying to kill you. Everyone will rally. Everyone will keep his eyes open. Jason and I will divide up the clubs between us. We will find this person, Father, and we will destroy him.”

Douglas and Alexandra watched their sons walk from the drawing room. She said quietly even as she burrowed against her husband’s shoulder, “They are not boys any longer, Douglas.”

“Yes, you’re right about that. Where have the years gone, Alex?”

“I don’t know, I just want them to continue going into the distant future. Our sons want to protect you now as you always wanted to protect them.”

“I still want to protect them.” He held her a moment, saying against her hair, “I fear they are too brave.”

Alexandra raised her head, and Douglas saw that she was smiling. “I too have many friends. Ladies, you know, hear many things. We must find out about children Georges could have left when he died.”

“Alex, you will not involve yourself in this!”

“Do not be a blockhead, my lord. I am your wife and thus I am more involved than anyone, with the possible exception of your stubborn self. Yes, I shall begin with Lady Avery. I wonder if her spouse ever tells her anything.”

Douglas’s face was red. “Alex, I forbid-”

She gave him a lovely smile and said, “Would you like a cup of tea, my lord?”

He growled and took his tea. “You will take no risks, madam, do you understand me?”

“Oh yes, Douglas. I understand you perfectly.”

Sometime later, Douglas said to his wife as they walked up the central staircase, “Well, damnation. I forgot all about Corrie.”

“It’s all right, Douglas. I didn’t. I selected several lovely patterns for her and some very nice white muslin and pale blue satin.”

Douglas knew it wasn’t going to be good. He cleared his throat. “Did Miss Plack sew up the gowns?”

“No, there wasn’t time, but Maybella assured me that all would be well. She said that Corrie’s maid could sew in a closed carriage. Indeed, I am expecting them to arrive in London today-even though Simon was complaining that he had contracted the plague-and Corrie will be wearing one of her new gowns.”

It was difficult, but Douglas did manage not to put his head in his hands. “Simon’s town house is on Great Little Street, is that right?”

Alexandra nodded. She was thinking hard, not about Corrie but about Georges Cadoudal. She said, “It’s been so long since Georges kidnapped me and took me to France. It was a matter of revenge then, Douglas, against you. But it isn’t the same now. This is someone hiding, lurking in the shadows, trying to kill you without you seeing his face.”

Douglas grunted.

“I wonder if Georges did marry Janine, that wretched hussy who betrayed you.”

“We’ll find out.”

“Could he have spoken with such hatred of you that any children he might have had are now out to avenge him? It makes no sense for the simple reason that there wasn’t any hatred. You and Georges parted amicably, like you told the boys, and I should know. I was there. I wonder, do you think perhaps that Georges is still alive?”

“I’ll make certain, one way or the other. I agree with you. Given what happened then, Georges’s involvement doesn’t make any sense to me either.”

She stopped in her tracks, halfway down the vast corridor, and grabbed his arm. “You were on a mission in France before Waterloo. I remember that since you tried to keep it from me.”

“It was not a particularly dangerous mission, just the extraction of one of our highly placed spies.”

“You told me that much, but nothing more. Now, was Georges involved in that?”

“I never saw him. Perhaps he was close by.” He didn’t say another word. He wasn’t about to tell her the rest of it for the simple reason that it had nothing to do with this.

“Spill it now, Douglas, or I will do something you won’t like.”

He hesitated, and she said, “I even learned to speak French to help protect you. Not that it did me much good.”

“The informant said something about revenge against me would be lovely.”

Alexandra shuddered. “I knew it. It is what I expected.”

He’d managed to sidetrack her, but not for long. She would remember that he hadn’t told her about that mission to France before Waterloo, and what had happened. Well, it didn’t matter. He’d survived.

JAMES WALKED TO Great Little Street, at the request of his father, to see exactly how bad Corrie looked in her maid-sewn gowns whose fabric and pattern his mother had, unfortunately, selected.