Read Online Rendezvous (9781301288946) by Susan Carroll - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Carroll
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give the general a message for
me," he said. "Tell him I've changed my name to Carrington, that he
can stop worrying that I will drag the illustrious name of Carr
into the gutters."
Charles heaved a disappointed sigh. "I
suppose I cannot blame you for your attitude. Father was completely
unfair. He despises intelligence work, yet he never hesitates to
use the information spies provide when drawing up battle
plans."
"Spying is a necessary evil," Sinclair
said, imitating his father's gruff, stentorian tones. "But dirty
work, not fit for a gentleman. Let someone else's son do it!"
Sinclair concluded his impersonation by banging his fist upon the
desk. Shrugging his shoulders, he forced a laugh. He had given over
trying to please his father a long time ago. The old man had been
outraged when he discovered Sinclair had traded his cavalry
commission to become part of army intelligence. General Carr had
used his considerable influence to get the appointment canceled.
Sinclair had retaliated by resigning from the army altogether, thus
becoming the first Carr male in five generations who would not go
to his grave wearing regimentals. He continued to work for the army
as a civilian spy and had not spoken to or seen his father since.
That had been over five years ago.
Sinclair blocked his father out of his
thoughts except for the times such as this, when Charles made a
feeble attempt to effect a reconciliation.
"The general is not such a bad old
fellow," Charles ventured. "He has always treated me quite
decently."
Sinclair rocked back in his chair,
regarding his guileless younger brother with an amused
smile.
"That is because you always do exactly
what he wants, Chuff."
Charles stiffened defensively. "But I
like being in the cavalry."
"I am glad that you do." Sinclair
spared his brother's feelings, although sorely tempted to point out
that Charles would have liked whatever the old man told him to
like. Sinclair was fond of his younger brother, but he knew that
Charles was weak-willed, easily led just like Sinclair's mother and
two sisters.
"I will admit the general can be a
proper martinet when crossed," Charles continued. "But you've
always defied him ever since I can remember. I often wondered how
you dared."
"My philosophy has been the same with
Father as it is with the rest of the world. You can do what
everyone else thinks you should and be miserable. Or you can please
yourself and let them all curse you. Then someday when you're an
old man, at least you're not likely to have regrets about the way
you've lived your life."
Charles looked troubled. "And don't you
ever have any regrets, Sinclair?"
It was a strangely perceptive question
to come from Chuff, almost too perceptive. Sinclair got abruptly to
his feet, dismissing the question with a laugh.
"I'm not an old man yet, even though I
know I must seem like a graybeard to you. Ask me your question
again twenty years hence."
He crossed the room, scooped up his
brother's boots, and thrust them at Charles. "Get these back on. I
assume you came here by stage. I want to make sure you are on the
next one going out before Darlington finds out about this
outrageous stunt you and your friend Tobias have
pulled."
Reluctantly Charles took the boots and
began to struggle into them. "Aye, I shouldn't like to land Toby in
the suds. He's a good fellow."
But obviously not possessed of the
secretive nature required for intelligence work, Sinclair
thought.
"I expect Darlington will ask Toby if
there was any return message," Charles said.
"Have Toby tell the colonel that when I
have anything to report, I will send it through the usual
channels." Sinclair laid pointed emphasis on the last words. "He
can also say that I have met the Varens woman."
Something in Sinclair's tone of voice
must have alerted Charles, for he glanced up sharply, red-faced
from his exertion in donning the boots.
"Oho! A woman is it? Up to mischief
again, I daresay."
"My dear Chuff." Sinclair regarded
me," he said. "Tell him I've changed my name to Carrington, that he
can stop worrying that I will drag the illustrious name of Carr
into the gutters."
Charles heaved a disappointed sigh. "I
suppose I cannot blame you for your attitude. Father was completely
unfair. He despises intelligence work, yet he never hesitates to
use the information spies provide when drawing up battle
plans."
"Spying is a necessary evil," Sinclair
said, imitating his father's gruff, stentorian tones. "But dirty
work, not fit for a gentleman. Let someone else's son do it!"
Sinclair concluded his impersonation by banging his fist upon the
desk. Shrugging his shoulders, he forced a laugh. He had given over
trying to please his father a long time ago. The old man had been
outraged when he discovered Sinclair had traded his cavalry
commission to become part of army intelligence. General Carr had
used his considerable influence to get the appointment canceled.
Sinclair had retaliated by resigning from the army altogether, thus
becoming the first Carr male in five generations who would not go
to his grave wearing regimentals. He continued to work for the army
as a civilian spy and had not spoken to or seen his father since.
That had been over five years ago.
Sinclair blocked his father out of his
thoughts except for the times such as this, when Charles made a
feeble attempt to effect a reconciliation.
"The general is not such a bad old
fellow," Charles ventured. "He has always treated me quite
decently."
Sinclair rocked back in his chair,
regarding his guileless younger brother with an amused
smile.
"That is because you always do exactly
what he wants, Chuff."
Charles stiffened defensively. "But I
like being in the cavalry."
"I am glad that you do." Sinclair
spared his brother's feelings, although sorely tempted to point out
that Charles would have liked whatever the old man told him to
like. Sinclair was fond of his younger brother, but he knew that
Charles was weak-willed, easily led just like Sinclair's mother and
two sisters.
"I will admit the general can be a
proper martinet when crossed," Charles continued. "But you've
always defied him ever since I can remember. I often wondered how
you dared."
"My philosophy has been the same with
Father as it is with the rest of the world. You can do what
everyone else thinks you should and be miserable. Or you can please
yourself and let them all curse you. Then someday when you're an
old man, at least you're not likely to have regrets about the way
you've lived your life."
Charles looked troubled. "And don't you
ever have any regrets, Sinclair?"
It was a strangely perceptive question
to come from Chuff, almost too perceptive. Sinclair got abruptly to
his feet, dismissing the question with a laugh.
"I'm not an old man yet, even though I
know I must seem like a graybeard to you. Ask me your question
again twenty years hence."
He crossed the room, scooped up his
brother's boots, and thrust them at Charles. "Get these back on. I
assume you came here by stage. I want to make sure you are on the
next one going out before Darlington finds out about this
outrageous stunt you and your friend Tobias have
pulled."
Reluctantly Charles took the boots and
began to struggle into them. "Aye, I shouldn't like to land Toby in
the suds. He's a good fellow."
But obviously not possessed of the
secretive nature required for intelligence work, Sinclair
thought.
"I expect Darlington will ask Toby if
there was any return message," Charles said.
"Have Toby tell the colonel that when I
have anything to report, I will send it through the usual
channels." Sinclair laid pointed emphasis on the last words. "He
can also say that I have met the Varens woman."
Something in Sinclair's tone of voice
must have alerted Charles, for he glanced up sharply, red-faced
from his exertion in donning the boots.
"Oho! A woman is it? Up to mischief
again, I daresay."
"My dear Chuff." Sinclair regarded
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