Marcus had no idea how long he was unconscious, but the next time he came round it was still light and he was lying in a large comfortable bed between clean white sheets. For a moment his mind was blank. Then memory began to return. Turning his head, he saw a familiar figure at the bedside.
‘George?’
‘Welcome back.’
‘How long have I been here?’
‘Almost two weeks.’
‘Two weeks!’ He started up, only to feel a painful twinge in his shoulder.
‘Have a care. It’s mending, thanks to the efforts of my sister and Miss Davenport, but you’re not there yet.’
Marcus lowered himself onto the pillows again. His friend was right; the savage pain was gone to be replaced with a dull ache. Clean bandages covered his injured shoulder and breast.
‘Could you manage a little broth?’ George inquired.
‘Yes, I think I could.’
In fact, with his friend’s help he managed half a bowlful.
‘Excellent. Your appetite is returning. You’ll soon be up and about.’ The doctor replaced the dish on the side table and smiled.
For a moment neither man spoke. Then Marcus met his friend’s eye.
‘Thank you for all you’ve done, George. That’s two I owe you now.’
‘You owe me nothing.’
‘Not so. I only hope I can repay you one day.’
‘My hope is that the men responsible for the outrage are found and brought to justice.’
‘You’re not alone in that.’
‘You were lucky, Marcus. It was a bad business. Seven men dead and six others injured. Those are the ones I know about. The wreckers took their wounded with them.’
‘They had no choice. Arrest would mean a death sentence.’
‘Aye, desperate men will do anything it seems.’
‘Including murder.’ Marcus’s jaw tightened. ‘They knew we were coming, George, and they knew our route. They chose a perfect spot for the ambush.’
‘So it would seem.’
Seeing the other man’s quizzical gaze, Marcus smiled faintly. ‘You want to know how the devil I got mixed up in it, but are too polite to ask.’
His friend laughed. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘You were never good at hiding your thoughts. But I do owe you an explanation.’
‘I admit to curiosity.’
‘When I returned from India two months ago I was summoned to Whitehall.’
‘Whitehall?’
‘Yes. The government is keen to break the Luddite rebellion. That’s why the rewards for information are so generous. Intelligence gathering is dangerous, though, so they knew whoever they chose would have to be experienced.’ He paused. ‘They sent one of their finest operatives up to Yorkshire, a man born and bred in the county who, suitably disguised, would blend in.’
‘What happened?’
‘He was betrayed and murdered. Shot in the back.’
‘Good Lord!’ George shook his head in disgust. ‘But betrayed by whom?’
‘That’s what I mean to find out. I am his replacement.’
‘You?’
‘Who better? I’ve done this kind of work before, for the Company in India. It seems word of that got back to London.’
‘But you could have refused.’
‘They knew I wouldn’t, though.’
‘How so?’
‘Because the murdered man was my brother.’
For a moment George stared at him dumbfounded before the implications of the words struck home.
‘Greville?’
‘Yes.’
‘Dear Lord, Marcus, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I read about his death in The Times, but the piece said he’d had a riding accident.’
‘The matter was hushed up and the story fabricated. The authorities didn’t want the truth made public. Greville was a government agent working under the alias of David Gifford.’
‘Ye gods.’ George sat down while he tried to marshal his scattered wits. ‘The news of his death made quite an impact in these parts, what with Netherclough Hall being virtually on the doorstep.’
‘I can imagine. It rocked London, too. Greville was well known in diplomatic circles. Besides which he left no male heir, only a young daughter.’
‘Then the title and the estate pass to you.’
‘Yes. Behold the new Viscount Destermere.’ Marcus accompanied the words with a humourless smile. ‘It is a role I never thought to have.’
‘But one you will perform well nevertheless.’
‘Thank you for that vote of confidence. I’ll do my best, though I never wanted to step into my brother’s shoes. He was always welcome to them, for it seemed to me that my destiny lay elsewhere.’
‘Circumstances have a habit of changing our plans, do they not?’ said George.
‘As you say.’
‘So what now?’
‘Officially I’m not back from India yet, but I shall have to put in an appearance soon.’
‘And what of your niece?’
‘Lucy is now my ward. At present she is being cared for by an elderly aunt in Essex. Hardly a suitable state of affairs. I shall bring the child to live here in Yorkshire. After all, Netherclough is her ancestral home.’
‘I see.’
‘After that I shall pursue my investigations.’ He paused. ‘The house is ideally situated for the purpose, being right in the heart of things.’
‘You can’t be serious. These men are dangerous, Marcus. They’ve murdered Greville and tried to kill you. I know they had no idea of your true identity but, even so, if they got wind of your real purpose here…’
‘Let’s hope they don’t. But come what may I shall find out who killed my brother. It is a matter of family honour that the culprit be brought to justice. That is the very least I can do for his daughter.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I owe it to his memory.’
George nodded reluctantly. ‘I can’t blame you for wanting to discover the truth, but have a care, I beg you.’
‘I’ll be careful. As soon as I’m able I shall leave for London and Mark Eden can disappear for a while. Give it out that he went back to his family to convalesce.’
‘Very well.’
‘How much have you told your sister and Miss Davenport?’
‘They don’t know your real identity. Apart from that I stuck as close to the truth as possible.’
‘Good. I regret the necessity for deception.’
‘So do I. Ellen and I are very close and I should not like to impose on Miss Davenport.’
‘When the time