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Renforth gave a slight smile. “The most important thing is to stop the tyranny before any more violence occurs.”

“And to keep it from crossing the border.”

“Indubitably,” he agreed.

Baines watched Lady Beckenham closely.

She appeared engaged, but not alarmed.

Their conversation turned towards Harcourt’s estate and a recent dinner in London.

The first seed had been planted.

Lady Beckenham moved on to greet other acquaintances without further comment, although Baines noticed that she glanced once towards the Colonel before accepting a fresh glass of sherry. Whether she was considering his confidence or merely wondering why he had chosen to share it with her, Baines could not determine. He had learned long ago that an intelligent woman could conceal her thoughts far more effectively than most officers concealed their intentions.

“Did she take the bait, do you think?” Manners asked quietly.

“She appeared interested.”

“In Renforth or the information? I get the feeling there is some history between them.”

Baines smiled. Had he not felt the same about the two? “Then I hope, for his sake, she is not the traitor.”

Manners hummed his agreement, but his attention had already shifted towards Mr. Pembroke, who stood beside a small table. He was examining a porcelain figurine with the concentration of a man attempting to determine which part was most likely to break.

Pembroke would receive quite different information.

Renforth intended to claim evidence that an influential gentleman associated with Blackthorn had been secretly financing radical publications. The Colonel would not name the man, but he would suggest that the evidence included correspondence and payments that could place several respectable families under suspicion. If Pembroke possessed knowledge of the conspiracy, the possibility that Renforth had uncovered its financial connections might encourage him to warn someone.

Cranford would hear that Renforth suspected a member of Sir Lionel’s household was passing information to the radicals and intended to confront the man before the evening ended.

The third confidence was the most dangerous, for it might provoke immediate action. It was also the reason three of the troop were concealed within Blackthorn’s passages rather than enjoying Judith’s excellent dinner.

Renforth crossed towards Pembroke with an expression of polite interest.

Pembroke looked up from the figurine he was examining. Judith must have forgotten to have that one removed.

“Colonel. How do you do?”

Renforth smiled. “Might I borrow you for a moment? I should value your opinion on a matter requiring discretion.”

Pembroke looked mildly surprised.

“My opinion? You may have it, although my wife would advise you to seek a second.”

Baines watched them move towards the small parlour adjoining the drawing room. Judith had arranged for a decanter of Madeira to be placed upon the sideboard, allowing Renforth to invite Pembroke inside without appearing to seek an unnecessarily secret interview.

The doors remained partly open. From his position near the fireplace, Baines could see Renforth’s profile and the edge of Pembroke’s shoulder, although the conversation itself remained beyond hearing.

Manners glanced towards the parlour. “Do you suppose Pembroke will remember what Renforth tells him?”

“If the matter concerns politics, quite possibly.”

“He could not remember whether he had eaten breakfast yesterday.”

“Perhaps breakfast was less interesting.”

Manners considered this. “I have never found it so.”