said, “Mon couer, do get that coil of rope we brought, and a nice, sturdy chair for the gentleman.” She returned her attention to Greystone. “What have you done with Jennet Reed, William? Before you lie, I know my men put you both in the hidden library.”
“She’s gone. I told her to run while you were searching the study.” He prayed she remained unconscious long enough to save her life. “How did you come to serve Bonaparte? You are as English as I am.”
“I would set fire to myself if I was,” she assured him. “Long before my family became the Tindalls, they were the Tullys.”
Greystone blinked. “You are Irish.”
“Aye, and the prettiest of my line.” Her voice took on a distinctly different accent. “From the shadows we Tullys have been fighting for Erin for generations. My grandparents created the Tindalls, so we might pose as part of English society. But our efforts cost a great deal, you see.”
Any hope to persuade her with an offer of a pardon if she came over to his side died in that moment. Even he had heard whispers of the Tullys, said to be the most pitiless and secretive of the northern rebels. He also knew her kind despised his government so much they would rather die than accept amnesty.
It also made sense of why she would serve the enemy. “The French pay their spies very well.”
“More than you can imagine. My family went in with them for the coin,” Catherine said, using her upper-class English voice as if to mock him. “For me, the lure was always the work. I discovered during my training that I have a true talent for it.” She shrugged. “And the fucking. I do enjoy that as well.”
Jean-Pierre returned with the chair and the rope, and hauled him from the floor before he tied him up. Catherine stepped back and kept the pistol leveled at his head the entire time, so Greystone didn’t try to resist. Once he had been secured, she tucked the pistol away and began rummaging through the cabinets.
“I will question him,” she told Jean-Pierre in French as she began assembling a collection of kitchen knives. “Go and collect the others, and prepare the horses. Then search the rooms upstairs. If you see the girl, do not harm her. Bring her to me.”
“Jacques wants a taste of her,” Jean-Pierre said in the same language, and gave Greystone a broad smile. “Maybe you let him do her on the kitchen table after you kill this one, eh? You know how you like to watch them cry and beg.”
Catherine turned around and regarded him.
Her lover lifted his hands. “I want you to be happy, that is all.”
“I will be happy when we are back in Paris.” She picked up a carving knife and used it to point to the door. “Go.”
Ignoring their gruesome hilarity required all of Greystone’s concentration, for he had very little time left to decide how to manage the situation. He had never been captured, and all of his vials of poison remained concealed upstairs. This was what Pickering had faced at his end, and he had goaded the agents into killing him.
Somehow he must do the same.
“I am sorry about that,” Catherine said as she came over to him with a carving knife. “You know how trying it can be, working with Jean-Pierre’s sort. All ballocks and no brains. But now we must move on to the interrogation. Where have you hidden Jennet Reed?”
“As I told you, she left. I told her where to find my horse, and what to do as soon as she got home.” Greystone stared past her. “Likely she has arrived at Reed Park by now, and is sending her man for the magistrate.”
“Well, if that is true, we will make that our next stop.” She expertly sliced open the front of his shirt. “A pity, too, for I had hoped to preserve my friendship with your lady love. Her goodness often grows monotonous, but she has provided excellent cover whenever I must decamp to the country.”
“Leave her out of this,” he said tonelessly. “She is a civilian.”
“That is the problem with you English. You regard women as beneath you, unable to be your partners in the war effort. In Erin, we are all soldiers.” She began ripping off his shirt with the efficiency of someone who had done the same many times.
“Jennet is an innocent,” Greystone reminded her.
Catherine chuckled. “That she is. I am sure it will