Page 20 of A Wallflower Never Forgets
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Jonathan replied, as he stretched his neck to relieve the tension in his upper body, considering the formidable presence of the dowager countess. He drew a long breath and, withdrew the note from the pocket of his waistcoat and passed it to his friends.
“I received another missive this morning from Conners. It says X is in Bath and our friend Talbot is ill,” he said, his voice tense as he passed the note to Rochester. Jonathan blew out a frustrated breath. “I thought I was done with that bastard,” Jonathan muttered. “We didn’t even find out about X until after we captured Talbot.”
“Strange. About Talbot,” Worsley said. “Do you find it suspicious?”
“Everything about Talbot is suspicious,” Jonathan replied. “I’ll send a missive to my contact to inquire after Talbot’s condition.”
“Also strange about X being in Bath,” Worsley added. “Perhaps there’s a meeting being set up with another traitor?”
“I’ll look into it,” Rochester said. “I have some strong contacts in Bath with the authorities. I’ve already put the word out to find out where Aumale’s widow is keeping a perch. That bitch will pay for what she tried to do to Melanie.”
Jonathan nodded. “I would rather we took matters into our own hands. We could search ourselves.”
“Let’s leave after breakfast,” Worsley suggested.
“One of us should remain here,” Rochester said. “We shouldn’t leave the women on their own. Even though I have very capable footmen and hired guards patrolling the property and the manor house.”
“Don’t let the ladies hear you. Maggie is more than capable of handling herself.” Worsley chuckled.
Jonathan agreed. Maggie was a strong woman. But Melanie, on the other hand, was headstrong, and that worried Jonathan. “I think Rochester makes a good point.”
“Then we agree,” Rochester said.
“That would be tidy, of course. Often, it is incomplete information because it’s all they have,” Worsley said. “It is frustrating, to say the least.”
“Aye, it is,” Rochester agreed.
Jonathan grumbled. Foremost in his mind was finding who tried to run over Melanie. “Conners is a good informant. He’s still looking.”
Hearing the rumble of a coach on the crushed oyster drive, their attention riveted to the window.
The now Dowager Duchess of Aumale sat outside the estate of the Earl of Rochester. She was hidden from view on this dark and foggy morning. Nevertheless, she’d taken additional precautions in having her driver pull onto a dirt path behind a stand of trees. Her ice-blue eyes were focused on the large white stone manor house on the hill in the distance. Its entrance was shrouded protectively by mature hardwood trees and wild rosebushes, along with the high stone wall. But light from various windows cast a glow around the elegant home.
It’s time I looked after myself.
She’d grown tired of doing Talbot’s bidding.
The cause needed money, according to her erstwhile lover, Monsieur Pierre Talbot. Honestly, she didn’t care a whit about the cause.
She’d met Talbot while in France on her honeymoon with the late Duke. Talbot had suited her needs. But despite how skilled Talbot was, she’d never stopped wanting Jonathan.
If only Jonathan weren’t so noble. She could have had him as a lover and Aumale as her husband, but she’d known from the beginning that Jonathan would never have accepted that. He was far too honorable.
Her engagement to Jonathan had been completely pre-meditated and expertly executed by her. She’d compromised him, essentially trapping him into marriage by manipulating him into seducing her. Her lips curved up in a feline grin as she recalled how she’d drugged his brandy and tempted him beyond the point of even the most stalwart resistance he could summon. But eventually, he succumbed. Men always succumbed to her charms. Jonathan had been smitten. And her performance as the naïve virgin had ensnared him completely. And so, he’d proposed.
He’d been the catch of the Season. Everywhere they went, she could feel the other debutantes stare daggers at her. She’d known about all the young ladies who’d pined after him. Especially Lady Melanie Stenson, a truly naïve little thing who only had eyes for Jonathan. That was most evident the night Jonathan announced their engagement. She heaved a breathy sigh. Jonathan had been an agile lover. She’d always yearned for him above all the others.
Jonathan was never greedy about anything. But Talbot was. Especially for that Godforsaken cause. And she’d grown tired of his constant demands for money. Their intimate moments had turned into discussions about his cause and about what she could provide—information and money—rather than about what he could offer her. And Diana had begun to feel more like his servant—which did not please her at all, and she was tired of it. It was time for her to focus on herself.
She’d been thrilled when she’d heard that Jonathan had captured Talbot. Not because she’d wished to see her lover in a London prison, but because of the excitement of knowing it had been Jonathan. Perhaps she could do away with Talbot and then turn her attention to Jonathan again. She’d become very adept at the use of drugs and poisons over the years. But now that she had been cast out by the new duke’s harpy of a wife, Diana was in dire need of a protector.
Which was why she’d decided to stop by Rock Springs Manor with a gift for the dowager countess’s birthday. Her goal was to prevail on their hospitality, as a lonely widow, and be invited to stay. Then, she could begin to implement her plans for Jonathan.
Though this was not an ideal way to reunite with Jonathan, he hadn’t been in London long enough for her to arrange for an accidental encounter with him. Discovering he was here among the high elites of London society gathered for the house party, she had decided to seize the opportunity for what could prove a delicious diversion. She would flirt boldly with Jonathan, intent on ensnaring him in the alluring web of her charms and reigniting the embers of the connection they’d once shared.
She knew Talbot would discard her soon as his mistress, once he found out she’d been cast out on her own and no longer had a flow of funds. For her own survival, Diana would have to be resourceful and find a new protector. Eventually, she would have to remarry to remain an esteemed member of Society. But it would be a struggle in the meantime. The pittance her father had called a dowery would never support her—even though the duke had invested it for her. Her parents had bluntly told her four years ago it was all they’d be giving her. Nor had there ever been any love lost between her and her brother, who was now the new Earl of Biggerly, inheriting the title last year after their father died. She didn’t bother visiting him, for she knew he’d spare her nary a copper.
Reflecting on how she had been expelled from the ducal mansion—and not given so much as a dowager dwelling, filled her with anger. “First things first,” she said to herself. “Once I secure a husband, I will respond to them in kind.” Her thoughts drifted to her competition. “Stay out of my way, Lady Melanie,” she muttered, tapping the ceiling of her coach with her parasol and urging it forward.
