Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(14)

Lord Welles sat forward in his chair, a look of outrage on his face. “No!” he thundered angrily. “That you would accuse me of treason is not only preposterous but a grave insult! What possible benefit would it give me to join our enemies in any fashion?”

“You are not accused of treason, Lord Welles,” said Mr. Durrant. He gave Sera a smug nod. He’d expected such an outburst.

Lord Welles, his cheeks twitching, sat back, struggling to regain his composure. “Then why have you put me in this ridiculous position?”

“Are you in league with Lady Corinne, formerly of Pavenham Sky?”

“No,” Welles snapped.

“Were you in league with her in the past?”

“Of course,” he answered. “But only before she was unmasked as a traitor. You can ask any of the officers in the Ministry of War, and they will tell you that I have been relentless in my pursuit of her arrest.”

“We have,” said Mr. Durrant, starting to pace.

“Have what?”

“Have asked your officers. And judging by your business dealings, you and Lord Lawton were partners in many ventures, many schemes.”

“There is no dishonor in that,” Lord Welles said, his face turning red. “I did not profit extensively from any of his military contracts. There was not even a whiff of corruption during my terms of prime minister. Do you accuse me otherwise?”

“Not at all,” said Mr. Durrant. “Your largest source of income is the construction of sky ships. Highly profitable efforts. Not many men can afford to be in that business. You made sure of that.”

Welles was starting to calm down. Recover himself. Sera watched him with interest.

“My business dealings were all within the purview of Law. I know that other men are jealous of me.” He gave Durrant a glare. “But my dealings were all permissible according to the laws at the time. So I ask you once again, why am I sitting here with my hand atop a rock?”

“We’re getting to that,” Durrant said. “We just had a few loose ends to tie up first. While your business dealings were entirely legal, as you said, they were not always ethical.”

“If you are attempting to hold me to the same standard as Brant Fitzroy, bless his memory, then you will find yourself disappointed by me, and nearly every other person in the empire.”

“A truer statement could not have been spoken,” Durrant agreed. “Which brings us to the purpose of this meeting. Did you have an extramarital affair with Pauline Bellisle, wife of Lieutenant Bellisle of the Nineteenth Dragoons?”

The look of shocked surprise on Welles’s face was all the indictment needed. He blinked rapidly, his skin turning pale. He adjusted his posture as a sickly look of shame settled over him.

“It was so long ago,” Welles said, his voice barely audible.

“So you admit it happened?” Mr. Durrant spoke firmly.

“Yes,” came a half-strangled reply.

“The same Mrs. Bellisle who divorced her husband following the affair and is now the wife of Admiral Hatch, who was arrested on charges of espionage months ago?”

“Yes,” Welles ground out. The look of mortification on his face, the swelling anger that followed the confession—both showed he was undone.

“That same madame is a hetaera, we have discovered, and has been in league with Montpensier for many years.”

Lord Welles looked surprised again. “A hetaera?”

“You did not know this?”

“I did not! If I’d suspected her, I would have reported her to the Ministry of Thought for an investigation. I swear it!”

“And did you continue this liaison during either of your terms as prime minister?”

“No! I swear it.”

“No need to swear, Mr. Welles. The Leering will affirm the truth of your words.”

Sera waited for Welles to react to the new title Durrant had used. It was a foreshadowing of what was about to happen. But the man didn’t seem to have heard it. He still seemed to be reeling from the confession he’d made before the other ministers.

“Do you understand why you have been summoned to appear in front of a council of your peers?” Sera said, speaking at last.

He looked at her and then away. “Because of the charge of adultery,” he said.

“Not only that,” Durrant said. “And as I understand from those assembled here, your voice was the strongest in the impugning of Her Majesty’s character for her brief indiscretion with a young officer. And it was just that: a small indiscretion. Your mistake, on the other hand, was a major lapse of moral judgment. The hetaera, who has been apprehended, had been intercepting correspondence within the Ministry of War for years. A memo she altered led to the demise of Lord Fitzroy, and we can only guess at what other damage she wrought. Had the facts been known sooner, this would have barred you from becoming prime minister.” Mr. Durrant shook his head, walking closer. “The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of its homes. And integrity is measured by conduct, not by professions of honor. Well did the ancients say that no man can purchase his virtue too dear, for it is the only thing whose value must increase with the price it has cost us. Our integrity is never worth so much as when we have parted with our all to keep it.”

“You are a fine one to sermonize,” Lord Welles snapped. “But I never knew of her involvement with the hetaera order. Is that why I am here? So you can gloat over me now? Smother me in platitudes?” The anger in his eyes was fearsome. He rose from his chair, his hand still fixed to the Leering, and turned to Sera. “So this is your revenge, Sera? My, but you’ve been a patient cat to wait this long before showing your claws! You would do anything to bring me down. I saw it in your eyes when you began your rise to power. Beware, daughter of Richard Fitzempress! He was a weak man, and the weak spawn the weak.”