Recipe for Treason Part 15

The surgeon chuffed a skeptical snort.

"I haven't forgotten about Stoughton," said the earl. "You have my promise that I'll press to learn what really happened, and if I can prove that he violated any military rule, I'll see that he's punished."

"I don't give a b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.n about the military's rules, Sandro," growled Henning. "We Scots adhere to a more primitive code."

"It's the best I can do."

"I know that, laddie. I don't expect you to break any laws."

"Baz-"

"Enough said on the matter." Setting his empty gla.s.s aside, the surgeon leaned back and let his eyes fall half-shut. "Now tell me about what you've discovered before the whisky and the warmth of yer hearth put me to sleep."

"I'll allow Arianna to recount her progress, but as for me, I've been following up on the names in Girton's coded letter."

"And have ye learned more about the chemical explosive?"

"A little," answered Saybrook. "But there may be an even greater threat hovering on the horizon . . ."

Wincing, Arianna gingerly descended the stairs. "Why anyone enjoys riding is beyond me," she mumbled, rubbing at her sore b.u.m. "But then, I find the rolling motion of a ship in rough seas exhilarating, while others are puking over the larboard side."

One man's pleasure is another man's poison.

There was a deeper, darker truth lurking within the sardonic humor of the old adage, she reminded herself. The elemental differences in human nature could be stark. Like good and evil.

"Yes, and whoever invented a sidesaddle was truly evil," she said under her breath.

"Did you say something, my dear?" Saybrook poked his head out of the library.

"Nothing important," answered Arianna. "How is Basil? Sebastian told me he arrived just a short while ago."

"Sleeping," replied the earl. "Let's not wake him. He looks exhausted and has lost far too much weight."

"I've asked Bianca to prepare some of his favorite foods. She will soon have him fattened up."

"Chocolate will help nourish his body, but we shall need to find a tonic for his spirit as well," mused Saybrook. "He's still bitterly resentful of the British government."

"Can you blame him?"

"Of course not. But I worry that he might have his own motives for wishing to rejoin the investigation. He spoke obliquely about revenge."

"A sentiment that I understand well," she said dryly. "Let us not start imagining specters. We have enough real demons to face."

The earl quietly closed the door behind him and led the way to a parlor overlooking the back garden. "How did your walk go?" he asked, once they had settled in the chairs by the bank of diamond-paned windows.

"I think Miss Kirtland and I are making some headway," she replied carefully.

"That sounds ominously vague." He said it lightly, but a shadow of concern hung beneath his lashes. "If you feel that the two of you cannot march in step together, it would be best if we come up with another plan. A stumble will only put both of you at risk."

"I know that, Sandro. Just as I know that it would put you in peril, as well as Basil and Constantina."

Patterns of light and shadow played across his profile, dipping and darting along the chiseled planes of his face. She saw a tiny muscle in his jaw twitch.

"What's bothering you?"

"Other than the fact that some fantastical chariot of fire may at any moment streak through the heavens and drop devastation on the Earth?"

"My question was not well phrased," said Arianna.

"Sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "There is something unsettling about this investigation. I feel as if I am walking blindfolded through a nest of vipers. I feel their coils brush against my boots, but every time I reach down to grab one, it slithers out of reach."

Arianna repressed a shiver. "We dealt with snakes before and always managed to catch them and then cut off their heads."

"This feels different," he said softly. Uncertainty shaded his voice. "And I can't explain why."

"Then I understand your concern. Your instincts must be trusted, so we have to be even more careful."

A sigh seeped out. "Not a word I normally a.s.sociate with you."

"This mission has forced me into a number of odd new a.s.sociations," she said dryly. "As you know, I am very good at improvising."

He acknowledged the remark with a gruff nod. "True. But if anything were to happen to you-"

"Good G.o.d, do you think that I don't worry about you, Sandro?"

The question forced him to silence.

"We must accept that fear will be an elemental ingredient in our emotions. As in chemistry, we will have to find a way to balance its volatility."

The earl rose and went to stand by the windows, his gaze fixing on the bare branches of the elm trees lining the far wall of the garden. "There is no going back, so we must look ahead. What is your next move?"

"Chittenden's party," she replied. "Tomorrow night. And then Constantina has secured invitations to a ball given by Lord and Lady Brodhead. Their son was friendly with Lord Reginald Sommers, and he is expected to be in attendance."

Saybrook clasped his hands behind his back.

"Miss Kirtland has agreed to come too," said Arianna.

He turned around abruptly, surprise etching a furrow between his brows. "She hates going out in Society."

"As do I," she replied calmly. It was hypocritical to feel any hurt at his reaction. Miss Kirtland had little experience in playing a role other than a recluse, so it was natural that he comment on it. "But we must put aside our own personal preferences if we are to trap Renard."

A grunt.

Arianna made a show of pleating the folds of her skirts before explaining her reasons for distancing Miss Kirtland from the Royal Inst.i.tution's scientific circle.

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought," was his only comment.

"You are not the only one who senses danger. I am trying to plan everything carefully," she answered. "But even with the best-laid plans, one must be prepared to make spur-of-the-moment changes."

12.

From Lady Arianna's Chocolate Notebooks Chocolate-Dipped Hazelnut Caramel Squares 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup packed light brown sugar 1/4 teaspoon salt 3/4 cup (11/2 sticks) plus 6 tablespoons chilled unsalted b.u.t.ter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes 2/3 cup granulated sugar 6 tablespoons heavy whipping cream 1/4 cup honey 2 teaspoons finely grated orange peel 5 ounces hazelnuts, coa.r.s.ely chopped 1/4 cup chopped candied orange peel 8 ounces bittersweet chocolate (not exceeding 61% cocoa), chopped 1. Preheat the oven to 350F. Line a 13 x 9 x 2inch metal baking pan with foil. Mix the flour, brown sugar, and salt in a food processor for 5 seconds. Add 3/4 cup of the b.u.t.ter. Pulse until a coa.r.s.e meal forms.

2. Transfer to the pan; press firmly and evenly onto the bottom of the pan. Bake the crust until golden, about 20 minutes.

3. Bring the remaining 6 tablespoons b.u.t.ter, granulated sugar, cream, honey, and finely grated orange peel to a boil in a small heavy saucepan, stirring until the sugar dissolves and the b.u.t.ter melts. Boil until a candy thermometer registers 230F, about 6 minutes. Stir in the nuts and candied orange peel.

4. Spoon the hot nut mixture evenly over the crust in the pan. Return to the oven and bake until the entire surface is bubbling, about 10 minutes. Cool for 20 minutes.

5. Using the foil as an aid, lift the cookie from the pan. Carefully peel the foil from the edges. Cut the warm cookie into 11/2-inch squares. Cool the cookies completely.

6. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or waxed paper. Melt the chocolate in a small metal bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water until warm to the touch. Remove the bowl from over the water. Dip the corner or edge of each cookie in the melted chocolate and place on the prepared baking sheet. Chill until the chocolate is set, about 1 hour.

Arianna made a last check of her reflection in the gla.s.s before descending from the elegant carriage. Working with their usual quiet efficiency, Saybrook's country servants had taken charge of things and quickly arranged for all the outward trappings of wealth. Mrs. Greeley now appeared to be just what she claimed-a worldly lady of means, intent on residing in London for an indefinite period of time.

Approaching the front steps of her destination, she paused and looked up at the town house. The draperies in the drawing room were drawn back, allowing the blaze of the crystal chandelier to shimmer through the leaded windows.

Bright lights.

She would have to match that brilliance with some fire of her own.

"Mrs. Greeley, how lovely that you could join us tonight." Her host flashed a gracious smile as a servant escorted Arianna through the double doors at the top of the staircase. "There are light refreshments set up in the side parlor, and a champagne punch can be found in the music room. Please be forewarned that it is all very informal here. Everyone simply circulates as they wish, for the main purpose of the gathering is to talk and exchange ideas."

"Thank you," replied Arianna. "Don't worry about me. I am quite capable of managing on my own."

"Indeed, don't fret about our new American friend feeling adrift among foreign faces, Chit." Henry Lawrance, whom she had met at the Royal Inst.i.tution reception, suddenly appeared by her side. "I shall be sure Mrs. Greeley is introduced properly to the other guests."

"There is no need for you to trouble yourself, Mr. Lawrance," said Arianna quickly.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," he answered politely.

d.a.m.nation. She turned, hoping a cool response might discourage his misplaced gallantry. The last thing she wanted was company. "I'm sure you have come to mingle with your own friends, sir. For me, part of the allure of travel is feeling independent, so I am not at all intimidated by having to navigate foreign waters on my own."

"It's clear you are a lady who is interested in exploring both intellectual and physical boundaries." Lawrance smiled, seemingly oblivious to her hint. "You have my admiration, for it cannot be easy, given the prejudices against those of your s.e.x."

"Indeed, it can be very trying at times," said Arianna tartly. For someone who supposedly possesses a modic.u.m of intelligence, your brain appears as thick as granite.

Without further word, she walked off.

"The music room is the first door on the left," he said, sticking close to her side. "Shall we get a gla.s.s of punch?"

"How kind." Spotting Willoughby holding court close by, she stopped just inside the doorway and fanned her cheeks. "I shall wait for you here."

As he headed for the refreshment table, Arianna sidled closer to the group of men gathered around the inst.i.tution's acting director. They were discussing some arcane point of chemistry, and though she couldn't follow the technical talk, she listened carefully to the exchange, watching the faces and making careful note of who spoke up to challenge Willoughby. The dangerous spark among the Bright Lights would be an individual who was both clever and confident.

"Do you have a special interest in pota.s.sium?" murmured Lawrance as he returned with two gla.s.ses.

"I am not very familiar with the subject, but I am always curious to learn about new things."

He fixed her with a measured look. "What is your particular field of interest, Mrs. Greeley?"

"Oh, since I am among such experts, I just wish to listen and see what sparks my imagination," she said coyly.

His gaze sharpened, though his tone matched her teasing note. "Sparks can be dangerous in chemistry."

Arianna gave a light laugh. "Yes, of course-thank you for the reminder. I see that I shall have to be more careful with my choice of words." She took a sip of her drink and felt its effervescence p.r.i.c.kle against her tongue. "And you, sir? What draws you to science?"

"Echoing your sentiments, I find a variety of topics fascinating."

Before he could go on, a portly gentleman with ginger side-whiskers and a large, intricately enameled stickpin decorating his cravat approached from the side salon. "I say, Lawrance, I have found the answer to that question you were asking me about lighter-than-air gases." Suddenly aware that he was interrupting, the stranger inclined an apologetic nod to Arianna. "Forgive me, madam. I didn't realize my fellow member was already engaged."

"Please don't apologize. The enthusiasm shown by all you scientists is most refreshing."

"Ha! How nice of you to say so. Some of my colleagues think I'm filled with naught but hot air."

"Are you?" drawled Arianna.

"Ha, ha, ha! I confess, sometimes I do get carried away in talking about my specialty."

She turned slightly to allow someone to pa.s.s, and once again her gaze fell on his cravat. "That is a very unusual stickpin. Does it have some special significance?"

"Indeed it does! It is a replica of the first manned balloon launched by the Montgolfier brothers. You see, my field of study is aeronautics."

"How interesting." Arianna slanted a quick glance at Lawrance, who seemed to have fallen oddly silent. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your colleague?"

He reluctantly did so. "Mrs. Greeley, this is Mr. Brynn-Smith-who does tend to expend a great deal of wind talking if you allow him to go on and on."

Brynn-Smith accepted the needling with a good-natured laugh. "I try to rise to the occasion when I am asked about my work. And seeing as you asked some very arcane questions, you ought to be glad of it."

Lawrance's gaze clouded for just an instant.

"Come around to my lodgings tomorrow. I've made copies of the papers you inquired about," continued Brynn-Smith. "Oh, and if you have further questions on flight, there is a new tea shop on Montague Street that has become quite popular with the aeronauts who lift off from the Artillery Grounds. The proprietor is a Spanish woman who serves a variety of exotic coffee and chocolate drinks." He looked at Arianna and explained, "One tends to get chilled at high alt.i.tudes, so a hot beverage serves to warm the bones after several hours aloft."

"I can imagine," she murmured. "Do you soar through the skies as well, Mr. Brynn-Smith?"

"Alas, only occasionally," he answered. "My work is mostly confined to the laboratory, as I like to experiment with the types of gases that allow the balloons to defy gravity."

"So without you, no one would get off the ground?"