The Dakota Cipher

‘But not room for the French?’ The British, after all, had driven the French out of Canada some thirty-eight years before.

‘Ah. There are rumours that France is retaking possession of Louisiana. And now you come, fresh from Napoleon’s court, reportedly headed that way. A remarkable coincidence, no?’

‘I’m beginning to understand why I was invited to this gathering, Lord Somerset. You’re as curious about my mission as I am about an English aristocrat in the wilderness.’

‘My role is no secret. I have investments and am on my way to Grand Portage to discuss a future alliance with our primary competitors, the Hudson’s Bay Company. Again, cooperation might suit better than competition. And I hear you were once in the employ of John Astor’s fur company?’

‘As a young labourer, nothing more.’

‘And that he called on you in New York?’

‘Good God, are you spying on me?’

‘No need to. This is a vast continent geographically, but a small one when it comes to rumour and dispatch, especially for those of us in the fur trade. Fact travels with each dip of the paddle, and rumour seems to fly even faster. Ethan Gage, from Syria to the Great Lakes? How curious. And rumour has it your departure from New York was in haste after a rather spectacular explosion. Not that I credit such tales.’

He knew entirely too much. ‘I like to see new things.’

He smiled. ‘And you will.’ He turned towards the staircase and the crowd’s conversation faltered once more. ‘My cousin, for example.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

And so Aurora Somerset made her entry. Like Cecil, she descended from the upper floor, but while he had stepped down regally, she seemed to float in her floor-length gown, as if riding a cloud down the flaming rainbow bridge Bifrost in Bloodhammer’s Asgard. Her presence as a white woman was reason enough for the company’s appreciation, but it was her beauty that took us all aback, even the stolid Indians. She was an exquisite portrait come to life, a sculptor’s ideal given animation. A cascading torrent of auburn ringlets framed an aristocratic face of high cheekbones and fine chin, her eyes emerald, her nose upturned, her smile a dazzling display of perfect teeth and pouty, rouged lips so sensual as to make a man think of a woman’s little purse below. There was a beauty mark on one cheek that called out to be kissed, and whether real or pasted it hardly mattered, did it? A newly fashionable high-waisted dress called attention to the glory of her bosom, an inch of cleavage revealed and the silk wonderfully betraying the bump of her covered nipples. The shimmering pink fabric clung to a classical form, hips swaying as she descended, and the slippers that peeked out at bottom were embroidered with tiny seed pearls. Her crown was a small turban sporting what looked like an ostrich plume, and at her throat was a silver choker with a large emerald to complement her eyes. The very candles seemed to bow to her passage, and her gaze danced across the crowd of men before settling on Lord Somerset and, I was certain, me.

I grinned. I was in love, or at least besotted with lust, the two easily confused in us men. It’s shameful to be so shallow, but by Casanova’s court, she stirred the juices: the most impressive piece of architecture I’d seen since leaving Mortefontaine, and the best painted, too, her lips cherry and cheeks peach. Aurora was as transfixing as a cobra, as frightening as temptation, and as irresistible as Eve’s apple.

‘That one’s more trouble than Pauline Bonaparte,’ Magnus whispered. He could be as annoyingly corrective as a parson at a wine press.

‘But not necessarily more trouble than she’s worth.’

‘Cecil,’ she trilled, ‘you did not tell me our company would be so handsome!’ She beamed at all of us, and more than one grizzled, wilderness-hardened Scot fur-monger blinked and blushed. She eyed Tecumseh as well and licked a lip, but the young chief was alone in regarding her as nothing more than pretty furniture. For just an instant she betrayed annoyed uncertainty, and then her gaze swept on.

I, in contrast, bowed like a courtier. ‘Lady Somerset. The advertisement of your beauty does not do you justice.’

‘It’s so wonderful to have an excuse to dress up. And you must be the remarkable Ethan Gage.’ She held out a slim white hand to be brushed with my lips. ‘Cecil told me you know all kinds of secrets, of electricity and ancient powers.’

‘Which I reveal only to my confidants.’ I grinned and Magnus rolled his eyes.

‘That sets me a goal, doesn’t it?’ She spread a fan and veiled herself a moment behind it. ‘I so want to hear of your adventures. I do hope we can be friends.’

‘Your cousin has been suggesting much the same thing. But a man with the reputation of Mr Simon Girty is going to give any American pause, I’m afraid. I don’t want to be perceived as a traitor in the company I keep, Lady Somerset.’

‘Call me Aurora, please. And friendship does not betray anyone, does it?’

‘Some have accused me of having too many friends and too few convictions.’

‘And I think some cling to conviction because they have no friends.’ She fluttered her fan.

‘Ethan was just telling us what he’s doing in the northwest,’ Cecil Somerset prompted.

‘I enjoy travel,’ I said.

‘With giant Norwegians,’ he amended.

‘Another friend, again. I am oddly popular.’

Magnus put his hand on my shoulder. ‘We both are students of Freemasonry. Did you know, Lord Somerset, that many of the American generals your armies fought in the Revolution were Masons? Is it possible you are one yourself?’

‘I hardly think so.’ He sniffed. ‘Rather odd group, I think. There was some scandalous offshoot in London …’ He turned to his cousin. ‘Egyptian Rite?’

‘It is reported the secret Egyptian Rite admitted women and that their ceremonies were quite erotic,’ Aurora said. ‘Occult and succulently scandalous.’

‘For a secret you seem to know a lot about it,’ Magnus said.

‘Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead,’ I put in. ‘Ben Franklin said that.’

Aurora laughed. ‘How true! And Norwegians don’t gossip, Mr Bloodhammer? What do they do up there all winter?’ Magnus turned even redder than his normal apple hue.

I knew that my dispatched enemy Silano had been a member of that Egyptian Rite, and it was interesting that this English pair knew of that organisation. But then the cult had been salon talk in London and Paris, and it was Magnus who had brought up Freemasonry. Despite my misgivings about Girty, I enjoyed the poised presence of this pair. Their elegant style reminded me of Europe. ‘You have sauce to travel into the wild, Aurora.’

‘Au contraire, Mr Gage, I have trunks and trunks of clothes. Cecil complains of it all the time, don’t you, cousin?’

‘I don’t know if I’m moving a woman or a caravan.’

‘For any proper lady it’s necessity. Our comforts introduce civilisation. This is why you should come with us, Mr Gage. The scenery is the same no matter how you go, so why not enjoy it with a proper brandy? Have you tried the American corn whiskey?’ She shuddered. ‘Might as well drink turpentine.’

‘Come with you?’ Sharing a boat with the British was contrary to the intentions of my American and French sponsors, but whiling away the journey with Aurora Somerset was tempting. I could learn what the English are up to.

‘We’re travelling to Grand Portage for the summer rendezvous. Surely that is in the direction you and your Norwegian companion are travelling anyway?’

‘We were planning to take American transport,’ Magnus said.

‘Which apparently doesn’t exist,’ I quickly added. ‘Our reception at Fort Detroit has been less than reassuring.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Somerset said. ‘Frightful discipline, what? I do hope your young nation can hold onto the northwest.’ I recognised from his condescension that he hoped just the opposite, but that was not my concern.

‘Can you explain the summer rendezvous?’