The Duke’s Gambit
Tracy Grant
Contents
Acknowledgments
Dramatis Personae
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Historical Notes
A READING GROUP GUIDE
Discover More by Tracy Grant
About the Author
This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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The Duke’s Gambit
Copyright © 2018 by Tracy Grant
Ebook ISBN: 9781641970242
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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NYLA Publishing
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http://www.nyliterary.com
Dedication
For Mélanie Cordelia, who is becoming a wonderful story teller
Acknowledgments
As always, huge thanks to my wonderful agent, Nancy Yost, for her support and insights. Thanks to Natanya Wheeler for once again working her magic to create a beautiful cover that captures Mélanie Rannoch and has just the right hint of mystery and for shepherding the book expertly through the publication process, to Sarah Younger for superlative social media support and for helping the book along through production and publication, and to Amy Rosenbaum and the entire team at Nancy Yost Literary Agency for their fabulous work. Malcolm, Mélanie, and I are all very fortunate to have their support.
Thanks to Eve Lynch for the meticulous and thoughtful copyediting, to Raphael Coffey for magical author photos, and to Kate Mullin for her insights into the story as it developed.
To all the wonderful booksellers who help readers find Malcolm and Mélanie Suzanne, and in particular to Book Passage in Corte Madera, for their always warm welcome to me and to my daughter, Mélanie. Thank you to the readers who share Mélanie's and Malcolm's adventures with me on my Web site, Facebook, Twitter, and Google+. To Suzi Shoemake, Betty Strohecker, and Kate Mullin, for managing a wonderful Google+ Discussion Group for readers of the series, and to all the members of the group, for their enthusiasm and support, and making me see new things in the stories and characters.
I am very fortunate to have a wonderful group of writer friends near and far who make being a writer less solitary. Thanks to Veronica Wolff and Lauren Willig, who both understand the challenges of being a writer and a mom. To Penelope Williamson, for sharing adventures, analyzing plots from Shakespeare to Scandal, and being a wonderful honorary aunt to my daughter. To Jami Alden, Tasha Alexander, Bella Andre, Allison Brennan, Josie Brown, Isobel Carr, Catherine Coulter, Deborah Crombie, Carol Culver/Grace, Catherine Duthie, Alexandra Elliott, J.T. Ellison, Barbara Freethy, C.S. Harris, Candice Hern, Anne Mallory, Monica McCarty, Brenda Novak, Poppy Reifiin, Deanna Raybourn, and Jacqueline Yau.
Thank you to the readers who support Malcolm and Mélanie Suzanne and their friends and provide wonderful insights on my Web site and social media.
Thanks to Gregory Paris and jim saliba for creating and updating a fabulous Web site that chronicles Malcolm and Mélanie Suzanne's adventures. Thanks to my colleagues at the Merola Opera Program who help me keep my life in balance. Thanks to Peet's Coffee & Tea and Pottery Barn Kids at The Village, Corte Madera, for welcoming me and my daughter Mélanie and giving me some of my best writing time. And thanks to Mélanie herself, for inspiring my writing, being patient with Mummy's "work time", and offering her own insights at the keyboard. This is her contribution to this story - Malcolm is our new kitty, I love Zannie as well and Cordy. — Mél
Dramatis Personae
*indicates real historical figures
At Dunmykel
* * *
Malcolm Rannoch, former Member of Parliament and British intelligence agent
Mélanie Suzanne Rannoch, his wife, former French intelligence agent
Colin Rannoch, their son
Jessica Rannoch, their daughter
* * *
Laura Fitzwalter, Marchioness of Tarrington, Colin and Jessica's former governess
Lady Emily Fitzwalter, her daughter
Raoul O'Roarke, Laura's lover, Mélanie's former spymaster, and Malcolm's father
* * *
Lady Cordelia Davenport
Colonel Harry Davenport, her husband, classical scholar and former British intelligence agent
Livia Davenport, their daughter
Drusilla Davenport, their daughter
* * *
Malcolm Traquair, Duke of Strathdon, Malcolm's grandfather
Gisèle Thirle, Malcolm's sister
Andrew Thirle, her husband
Ian Thirle, their son
* * *
Lady Frances Davenport, Malcolm and Gisèle's aunt, Strathdon's daughter
Archibald Davenport, her husband, Harry's uncle
Chloe Dacre-Hammond, Frances's daughter
* * *
Aline Blackwell, Frances's daughter
Geoffrey Blackwell, her husband
Claudia Blackwell, their daughter
* * *
*Prince Talleyrand, retired French statesman
*Dorothée de Talleyrand-Périgord, his nephew's wife
* * *
Tommy Belmont, Malcolm's former fellow attaché and agent
Stephen Drummond, innkeeper and smuggler
Dugal, his son,
Rory Drummond, Stephen's brother
Alec, footman
Marjorie, Gisèle's maid
* * *
In London
* * *
Valentine, the Rannochs' footman
Gilbert, Lady Frances's footman
* * *
Hubert Mallinson, Earl Carfax, British spymaster
Amelia, Countess Carfax, his wife
Lady Isobel Lydgate, the Carfaxes' daughter
Oliver Lydgate, her husband
David Mallinson, Viscount Worsley, the Carfaxes' son
Simon Tanner, playwright
, David's lover
* * *
Jeremy Roth, Bow Street runner
*Sir Nathaniel Conant, chief magistrate of Bow Street
*Lord Castlereagh, British foreign secretary
* * *
Rosamud Hartley, proprietress of the Barque of Frailty
Miranda Spencer, employed at the Barque of Frailty
Daisy Singleton, employed the Barque of Frailty
Gerald Lumley, Miranda's friend
Faith Harker, Miranda's friend
* * *
Bertrand Laclos, French émigré
Rupert, Viscount Caruthers, his lover
Gabrielle, Viscountess Caruthers, Rupert's wife and Bertrand's cousin
* * *
Lord Beverston
Roger Smythe, his son
Dorinda Smythe, Roger's wife
Kit Montagu, Roger's friend
* * *
Charlotte Leblanc, former French agent
Pierre Ducot, former Scout in the Peninsular War
Victor Ducot, his son
Sam Lucan (Sancho), former French agent and arms dealer
Nan Simcox, his mistress
Bet Simcox, her sister
Robby Simcox, their brother
* * *
Alexander (Sandy) Trenor, Bet's lover
Matthew Trenor, his brother, aide to Castlereagh
* * *
Hugh Derenvil, MP
Lady Caroline Lewes, his fiancée
* * *
*Emily, Countess Cowper, patroness of Almack's
Aldous Morningtree, Viscount Gildersly
Lady Langton, the Rannochs' neighbor
Marianne, her daughter
Sir Lucius Brandon
* * *
Henriette Varon, former seamstress to Josephine Bonaparte
Manon Caret Harleton, actress and former French agent
Margaret O'Roarke, Raoul's estranged wife
* * *
Billy Hopkins, agent for Carfax
Thomas Ambrose, agent for hire
Julien St. Juste, agent for hire
Sylvie, Lady St. Ives
Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance
—Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, Act IV, scene iv
Chapter 1
Malcolm Rannoch stared at the footman who had just told him his sister had left her home on a snowy New Year's Day with the agent of his enemies. "Mrs. Thirle got in a carriage with Mr. Belmont and drove off?"
"Yes, sir." Alec's gaze was wooden yet somehow at the same time sharp with sympathy.
"Did she say anything?" Gisèle's husband Andrew had been standing by in white-faced silence, but now his sharp voice cut the still air of the hall. "Give you a message?"
"No, sir." Alec hesitated. "They appeared to be in a hurry."
"Did she seem distressed?" Malcolm asked. "Were they—could Mr. Belmont have had a weapon pressed to her side?"
Alec hesitated again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "No, sir." Apology shone in his eyes and rang in his voice, as though he wished he could have claimed Gisèle had been coerced. "They were conversing. They appeared to be in a hurry, but I saw Mrs. Thirle turn back to Mr. Belmont and—"
"What?" Andrew asked, voice taut with agony.
"She was laughing," Alec said, as though admitting to a glimpse of some terrible calamity. Which, in a way, he was.
"What's happened?" As though responding to a stage cue, Malcolm and Gisèle's aunt, Lady Frances Davenport, came down the stairs. She had Ian, Gisèle and Andrew's baby son, in her arms. Malcolm's wife Mélanie was just behind, holding their two-year-old daughter Jessica by the hand.
Andrew turned to the woman who had raised his wife. "Gelly's gone off in a carriage with Tommy Belmont."
In his thirty-one years, Malcolm had rarely seen his aunt's composure break to display shock or hurt. Now he saw both emotions flash across Frances's well-groomed features. "Did she—"
"She doesn't appear to have been coerced," Malcolm said.
On the step behind Lady Frances, Mélanie's gaze had also gone white. She picked up Jessica, as though to reassure herself, but her gaze went to Alec. "Did Marjorie go with Mrs. Thirle?"
"No, ma'am," Alec said.
Marjorie was Gisèle's maid. Mélanie, as usual, was thinking clearly in a crisis. "Thank you, Alec," Malcolm said. "Perhaps you could ask Marjorie to join us in the library."
"Of course, sir. Right away."
Inside the library, Malcolm poured sherry, despite the early hour, and pressed it into everyone's hands. Andrew stared into his glass as though he wasn't sure what to do with it. Frances took a quick swallow, then pressed a kiss to Ian's forehead. "I take it she didn't leave any sort of note?"
Andrew shook his head. "Only last night we were talking about taking Ian sledding today. Either something changed very quickly, or she's an actress on a level I never imagined—" He drew a sharp breath.
"It's possible," Mélanie said. "But Gisèle isn't a trained agent." Unlike Malcolm and Mélanie herself, and any number of their friends and family. Malcolm met his wife's gaze over their daughter's head. Jessica squirmed to be put down and walked over to investigate the chess set by the library windows.
"Andrew." Frances took another sip of sherry and fixed Gisèle's husband with a firm stare. "I'm sure I don't need to point out to you that Gisèle isn't her mother. Or her aunt."
Andrew gave a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure Gisèle would quite like to be compared to you, ma'am. But she'd be the first to admit she's different."
"Well, then." Lady Frances's tone was brisk. Perhaps a shade too brisk. "Having grown up with this family and been married into it for almost two years, I'd think you'd understand how often our behavior is inexplicable."
"And I'd be a fool to claim any insights?" Andrew said. "You make a good point, Lady Frances. But—"
Ian gave a squawk and kicked his legs against Frances's stomach.
"He's hungry." Andrew took his son from Frances's arms. As though in confirmation, Ian grabbed at the neck of Andrew's shirt.
"I'll feed him." Mélanie held out her arms for the baby. "Jessica's old enough to share and I think I still have enough milk."
Andrew looked down at Ian as though the reminder that their son was still nursing made him realize just what Gisèle had walked away from. He put his son in Mélanie's arms. "I can't believe she—"
"We don't know what she's done." Frances put a hand on Andrew's arm. "Drink that sherry, you're going to need it.
Jessica looked up from the chess pieces as her mother took Ian, then went back to them without concern. Malcolm watched his wife settle Ian at her breast. Mélanie, one of the best agents he had ever met, who had spied on her own husband for years, had never spent the night away from either of their children. Which made Gisèle's actions even more inexplicable.
A rap sounded on the door and Marjorie slipped into the room. She was scarcely older than Gisèle. Her mother had been a housemaid at Dunmykel in Malcolm's childhood, and she had grown up playing with Gisèle. Her red hair was pulled into a neat knot, but strands escaped about her face, as though she'd been tugging on them, and her nose was pink beneath the freckles. "I didn't know, Mr. Thirle. Mr. Rannoch. Mrs. Rannoch. Lady Frances." Her gaze darted round the company. "I swear it."
"No one's suggesting you did," Malcolm said. "Sit down, Marjorie. When did you realize Mrs. Thirle was gone?"
"This morning when I took in her tea." Marjorie moved to a chair and twisted her hands in her print skirt. "That is, I saw she wasn't in her room. But I didn't think—"
"If she chose to get up early for some reason it wasn't your place to tell anyone," Malcolm said with a smile. "I quite understand."
Marjorie returned his smile, but her lips trembled "I never guessed—"
"Of course not," Mélanie said, rocking Ian in her arms. "Did she pack a bag?"
Marjorie drew a breath
. "I didn't realize it at first. Not until after I learned she was gone. Then I looked in her trunks, and a small valise is gone with her nightdress and one gown and her dressing case. Nothing else."
Which made it less likely Tommy Belmont had pressed a pistol to Gisèle's side. Though it wasn't entirely beyond the realm of possibility for Tommy to have packed for her.