VOLUME 1, CHAPTER XXV.
DOUBLE CUNNING
The next morning, the post brought a package to Stagsden Hall that acted as a final, jagged bolt of lightning through Seton Darville's heart. Bennett had sent the latest photographic intercepts. As Marcus spread them across his mahogany desk, the "double cunning" of the pair was laid bare.
Karl's letter was a masterpiece of arrogance.
"As you desire to see me so earnestly, darling, I intend to come to London on the 20th. Get rid of old Darville, who is old enough to be your father... he shall not come between us—otherwise it will be the worse for him!"
Seton's teeth ground together with a visceral sound. The Swiss "swine" was not merely stealing his fiancée; he was threatening the Director of Britain's Secret Service. A hollow, chilling laugh escaped Marcus's lips—a sound that would have terrified those who knew him only as the jovial novelist. Two could play at the game of intrigue, and Karl Weiss had no idea that his opponent held the keys to the kingdom.
The day passed in a blur of agonizing self-possession. Marcus watched Edris at breakfast, marveling at her "entrancing smile" and the smartness of her frock. She played the role of the devoted lover with a skill that rivaled his own agents, yet knowing what he knew, her presence began to feel like a slow-acting poison.
When they were finally alone, Edris spun a new web. She mentioned a "telegram" from Karl saying he was coming to London for a "good berth" that had been offered to him.
"I wonder what it is," she mused, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Do you know anything about it, Seti?"
"How should I?" Marcus replied grimly. He felt a surge of withering scorn. She was using him to validate the very trap he had set. "Tell me the truth, Carina. Do you really love me, or is all this a mere hollow pretense?"
Edris faltered, her face pale. "I—I really love you. Have I not told you a hundred times?"
Marcus drew a long, shaky breath. "I suppose I must believe you," he sighed, the lie tasting like ash.
The second night back at Stagsden Hall brought the inevitable explosion. They were sitting by the firelight after tea, the flames casting long, flickering shadows against the oak-paneled walls. Edris had assumed her favorite position, sitting on the floor with her head against his knee—the picture of domestic submission.
"I suppose you are looking forward to meeting Karl?" Marcus asked suddenly.
"No, not exactly," she replied, her voice soft. "I—I didn't want to meet him again. I love only you."
Marcus withdrew his hand as if he had been stung by a viper. He stood up, the firelight catching the hard, determined look in his eyes.
"Edris, I'll tell you what is the matter," he said, his voice dropping to a terrifying register. "You are lying to me!"
"Lying! Seti, what do you mean?"
"I mean that ever since Interlaken, you have deceived me! I know everything! You became engaged in secret to Karl Weiss the night you left Switzerland. You have urged him to come to London while calling me an 'old man' and a 'bore' in your letters!"
Edris stood open-mouthed, her face blanched to the color of bone. The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the crackle of the wood fire.
"You've been reading my letters!" she managed to gasp.
"I have had you watched! I have seen the base deceit of you both!" Darville cried, his voice breaking with a mix of anger and unutterable despair. "Go to him on Wednesday! But know that I am going out of your life forever."
Edris collapsed to the floor, clutching his legs convulsively. "Seti, forgive me! I have acted damnably, I know, but I love you! Karl fascinated me... it was like a serpent with a bird. Please, don't leave me!"
But Darville was a man whose heart had been turned to stone by the very "cunning" she had employed. He looked down at her tearful countenance, the woman who had trodden his devotion into the dirt.
"Your kisses nauseate me, Edris," he said coldly. "How can you have the audacity to speak of affection after the insults you let that man heap upon me? You asked me to find him work—and I have. He is coming to London, and he will be sent to his doom. Reflect on that when I am gone."
He turned and walked toward the door, leaving her huddled by the fire. He still loved her to distraction—that was the tragedy—but the Director of the Secret Service knew that in the world of shadows, once trust is broken, there is no rebuilding. Karl Weiss was coming to London, and the "Hidden Hand" was ready to strike.