“I have a list,” he said, finally. “Of persons whose actions have led—either directly or indirectly, but without doubt—to a particular outcome. In some cases, the person him—or her—self performs the action; in others, he or she merely facilitates it. Your brother is one who will facilitate a particular course of action that in turn will decide this war.”

“What?” … actions have led … will facilitate … will decide … He shot a sideways glance at Percy, who was looking up, but with an attitude of complete bewilderment, and no wonder.

“What, indeed?” Richardson had been watching the play of thoughts on Grey’s face. “I may be mistaken, but I believe that your brother intends to make a speech to the House of Lords. And I further believe that the effects of that speech will affect the will of the British army—and hence Parliament—to pursue this war.”

Percy was listening to this in total bewilderment, and Grey didn’t blame him.

“I desire that your brother not make that speech,” Richardson concluded. “And I think that your life and honor are probably the only things that would prevent him doing so.” He cocked his head to one side, watching Grey.

Grey blinked.

“If you think that, plainly you don’t know my brother.”

Richardson smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression.

“You’ve seen a man hanged for sodomy.”

“I have.” He had, in fact, not only attended that hanging but had pulled on Bates’s legs in the desperate hope of hastening his end. He found that one hand was idly rubbing his chest, in the place where Bates had kicked him.

“The American colonies are no more tolerant of perversion than is England—probably less. Though you might have the luck to be stoned to death by a mob rather than formally hanged,” he added judiciously, and nodded toward the papers on the desk. “Your brother will appreciate the position, I assure you. You—and Mr. Wainwright—will remain aboard as my guests, while copies of these statements are delivered to your brother. What happens to you after that will depend upon His Grace.”

He closed the folder, picked it up, and bowed.

“I’ll have some food brought. Good day, gentlemen.”

137

Infamous and Scandalous Acts

WILLIAM’S FIRST RESPONSE TO learning of his father’s disappearance was to go and look for him. He began at General Prévost’s headquarters.

No one had seen Lieutenant Colonel Lord John Grey, he was told. They would like very much to know where he was, though, as Regimental Colonel His Grace the Duke of Pardloe had left responsibility for the soldiers remaining in Savannah in Colonel Lord John’s hands, and while the executive officers over these soldiers were fully capable of keeping the men fit and in order, they would certainly appreciate more specific orders, when these should be forthcoming.

At least they knew where Uncle Hal was—or was supposed to be. In Charles Town.

“Which is the devil of a lot of help,” he told Amaranthus, after two days of searching. “But if Papa doesn’t turn up here quite soon …”