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'Quite so, Lawford smiled. 'I think you'll hear me out, though. We both, after all, share an interest in making certain that no scandal disturbs our administration? This is very good brandy! My smugglers bring in a most inferior article.

'You spoke of scandal.

Lawford stared at the thin, pale face with its aquiline nose. 'Girdwood, Foulness, auctions. You permit me to smoke?

Lord Fenner was too astonished to offer or refuse permission. He said nothing until Lawford had cut and lit a cigar with his one hand, then he made his nasal voice deliberately calm. 'You confuse me, Sir William.

'Confuse you?

'You play at riddles like a child.

Lawford shrugged apologetically. He was nervous. This handsome lord, a government minister, conveyed such an air of elegant gravity that it seemed unthinkable that he should be bound up in so squalid an affair as Foulness. Lawford smiled. ‘I do not, for one moment, sir, imagine that you know of what I speak. Let us, though, assume that you have some influence over those who might? Sir Henry Simmerson, perhaps?

Lord Fenner showed none of the relief that he felt. Lawford was showing his cards, and though the first cards had horrified Fenner, this last demonstrated that Sir William did not seek his disgrace. Fenner's voice was still cold and toneless. 'We can assume that, Sir William.

Lawford, who had half-expected to be forcibly ejected from the house, even challenged to a duel, knew now that Sharpe's accusations were right. Lord Fenner had admitted nothing, but the very fact that he would talk proclaimed that there was much to admit. Sir William rested his cigar to take up the brandy. 'Should news of Sir Henry's peculations at Foulness become public, my Lord, I need hardly tell you the result. Nor did he; another scandal to rock the government, cries of treason, of corruption, of demands for enquiries and God knows what else.

Fenner sat very still. 'How could it become public?

'Because Major Richard Sharpe is in full knowledge of the facts. Sir William smiled. 'He attempted to see the Duke of York today. York's aide sent for me, knowing that I had been Sharpe's commanding officer, and I have, so far, kept him silent. You owe me thanks for that.

Fenner somehow managed to hide his horror. Sharpe was alive? His Lordship had thought it strange that his hired assassins had not come to collect their reward, but nor had Sharpe ever appeared again and Fenner had persuaded himself that the troublesome Rifleman was safely dead.

The door to the drawing room creaked ajar and Fenner supposed that Anne Camoynes was listening there. God damn her! He dared not close the door lest the movement be interpreted as nervousness and, to cover his astonishment and consternation, he lit a cigar for himself and forced insouciance into his voice. 'You say Sharpe spoke to you?

'At great length. A very remarkable man, my Lord. I knew him as a sergeant. He has a talent for battle, but not, I think, for politics. Lawford smiled as though such a lack in a man was to be pitied. 'He is an intemperate fellow, often foolhardy, and not easily dissuaded. He pointed out to me, with commendable passion, the need for veteran Battalions to be kept in Spain. His own Battalion, as your Lordship knows, is in danger of dismemberment and he feels, not without cause, that it has yet a great contribution to make in the invasion of France. If he feels that it is being deliberately denied replacements, then he could make an unwelcome noise. Your Lordship comprehends me?

Fenner nodded. How, in God's name, had Sharpe discovered Foulness? Fenner would dearly love to know, yet to ask was to reveal too great a concern.

'Fortunately, Lawford went on, 'he has no absolute proof, so his opportunity for embarrassing our government is slight. He has agreed to do nothing until the day after tomorrow, my Lord, and to leave the resolution of this affair entirely in my hands.

Fenner bowed to Lawford, a gesture that did express relief, for now he knew what he must deal with. Not with some rogue Rifleman whose passion and enmity scared His Lordship, but with another politician, a man who understood that compromise was the very finest of the arts. 'You have suggestions, Sir William?

'Mere thoughts, Sir William smiled. 'I really do not know if there is anything amiss at Foulness. A strange name, yes? Lord Fenner smiled, for the words told him that Sir William had not come to preach morality, but to make his bargain. Lawford drew on his cigar. 'My concern is with Major Sharpe. I owe him a great deal, sir, including my life. You will sympathise with my wish to extricate him from this entanglement. I would not want him punished, nor in any way see his career harmed, indeed, I would like to see it advanced. If he is guilty of anything, my Lord, it is merely an excessive devotion to his duty.

Lord Fenner nodded. 'You say he is in London?

'I did not. I said he has agreed to do nothing until I speak to him in two days.

'What does he want?

'His Battalion.

Lord Fenner knew that now he had to play a card of his own. 'But if there is no Battalion, Sir William, he cannot have it. Fenner's gaze was challenging.

Lawford knew that Lord Fenner, by his last statement, was saying that the physical evidence at Foulness, the men, the camp itself, all signs of the hidden Battalion, would be removed. The men would be sent to different depots throughout Britain, dispersed in sections, while the tents and buildings would be destroyed. There could be no disgrace for Lord Fenner, for there would be no evidence of any kind. Lawford smiled. 'I thought, my Lord, that he might be given command of a Rifle Battalion in the American war? We need good men over there.

'America? Lord Fenner thought it would do very well; a minor, scrappy war being fought three thousand miles away. No one cared what happened in America. 'We could doubtless arrange such a thing, so long as he keeps silent about this preposterous business.

'If there's no evidence, my Lord, what does it matter?

Fenner said nothing. There was only one proof that could destroy him, and that was the secret records of the Battalion auctions, and they, he knew, were safe. Even if Major Sharpe should produce the men themselves, what could they prove? They were listed as a Holding Battalion, so the men were accounted for. The officers might bleat about auctions, yet they had taken the money and so risked punishment, while not one officer, apart from Girdwood, knew of His Lordship's involvement.

Sir William tossed his cigar into the empty hearth. 'I have your permission to return and speak with you tomorrow, my Lord? I would not ask you for a precipitate decision.

Fenner stood. 'America?

'It would be most suitable. A Battalion command, of course. Nothing less. Lawford was ensuring that Sharpe did not suffer. The scandal would be avoided, the government safe, and Sir William's own reward could wait.

'Of course. Fenner held a hand out to guide his guest towards the door. 'I really am most obliged to you, Sir William. Men of sense and discretion are rare commodities these days. We must make sure your talents do not go unrewarded.

'Thank you, my Lord. Which meant that Lawford could now look for a government post, something unburdensome but with a welcome salary.

Lord Fenner did not summon his steward, but opened his front door himself. 'I shall look forward to your return tomorrow. You have a coat, a hat?

Sir William stood on the step in the gentle London dusk, and thought that it was a good evening's work. There would be no scandal, no ribald jeers in Parliament. Instead the criminal evidence would be quietly hidden and Richard Sharpe, whom Lawford liked, would get a just reward. He would be promoted, he would have a Rifle Battalion of his own, and no one, except the enemies against whom that Battalion was matched, would suffer. No one. Lawford smiled as his groom opened the carriage door.