Page 12 of A Wallflower Never Forgets
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Rochester said, sitting next to Jonathan and waving the footman over to them. “I’ll take a brandy—your best—and if you still have those fine cigars you had the other day, we’ll take two.”
“Yes, milord. I believe we still have a small quantity of the cigars you are referring to; I’ll return in a moment.”
“Where are these cigars from?” Jonathan asked as the footman walked away.
“I believe the Spanish colony of Cuba. They’re exceptional. My grandmother insisted on trying one as well.”
Jonathan and Rochester were still chuckling about Rochester’s outrageous grandmother when the footman returned with brandy and cigars. He set the snifter down on the side table next to Rochester and, snipped the tips of the cigars and lit them.
Jonathan leaned back and took a puff of his cigar. “Ah, smooth. I can see why your grandmother loves them.”
“Grandmother is a true original,” Rochester said. “Speaking of Grandmother, she’s been mum about what happened to Melanie the other day with that runaway carriage.”
“It wasn’t a runaway carriage,” Jonathan said, his anger rushing back.
“What are you saying, man? That someone tried to kill my sister on purpose?” Rochester leaned forward, and his eyes had gone steely. “Why in the blazes didn’t you let me know?”
“I haven’t had a chance to do so. Your sister was intent on returning to King Street to visit the bookshop yesterday. I went with her to see to her protection.”
His friend gave him a speculative look. “Really…strictly for protection, you say… Tell me everything.”
Jonathan nodded and exhaled a deep breath. “I received a note from an informant while meeting with Slade, asking to meet with me as I’d just left Slade’s office when I heard the carriage careening around the corner and bearing down on a woman standing in the middle of the road holding a kitten. I flew into action. At the time, I had no idea it was your sister, I only realized it afterward.” Jonathan blew out another breath.
“Thank you for being there. For saving her.” Rochester combed his fingers through his hair in agitation. “God, you know how single-minded my sister can be when she gets it into her head to do something. She becomes completely oblivious to danger—if anything had happened to her… Dammit!” Rochester gulped down his brandy and called to a footman for another.
“Your sister has a kind heart, especially for wounded creatures,” Jonathan said softly. “I apologize for not contacting you right away.” His thoughts had been about protecting Melanie. Since the moment he held her in his arms, he’d not been able to think of anything but her.
“I understand, and I’m grateful you were there.” Rochester ran his fingers through his hair again. “Tell me why you think she was the target. Did you see who was in the carriage?”
“I happened to look up for a moment. When I saw someone in the carriage, I couldn’t see them clearly, just a shadowy figure. And the driver was masked. That alone made me think it was intentional.”
“Damn and blast!” Rochester exclaimed. “I know my sister is stubborn, but I’m not aware of her having enemies of this magnitude. Tell me, could the near miss with the mysterious carriage have anything to do with your case? Maybe the carriage was aiming for you.”
Lord Gavin Rochester had ties of his own to the Crown and knew what Jonathan had been working on while in Paris. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to that,” Jonathan said. “And I don’t think they were aiming at me. Melanie was standing in the road, and it appeared she was the target, although I cannot fathom why.”
“She’s only just returned to England, for God’s sake. She was living in Scotland with our mother.” Rochester shook his head. “Could it have something to do with one of your cases?” he repeated.
“I don’t know.”
“This is my little sister, and if someone has placed her in their crosshairs, I’ll go after them myself.”
“We’ll both go after them.” Jonathan’s chest tightened. Could Melanie have become someone’s target because of him—either one of his past cases or his latest capture of Talbot? “This was to be my last case, but I cannot stop until I find who is behind this. It feels personal to me, and I cannot shake that.”
“Speaking of personal, I heard Lady Diana Thurston—I mean the Duchess of Aumale—is back in town. You know the poor sod she married died two weeks ago, and she’s already prowling around Bath like a cat in heat,” Rochester said.
“Bath?”
“Yes. I heard the son of the late duke kicked her out. She’s banned from all the properties…every single one of them. The son, who recently married, did well to listen to his bride. Evidently, the new duchess caught Diana trying to seduce the newly minted duke in the study. She nearly tore her hair out. Diana was tossed out with whatever possessions she could fit in her carriage. She’s staying in the hotel in Bath, currently on the hunt for a protector. She may have her sights set on you,” Rochester said.
Jonathan coughed—nearly choking on his brandy.
“Went down the wrong way?” Rochester said in a dry tone.
“Indeed,” Jonathan said, clearing his throat. “That woman can forget any hope on that front. That ship sailed four years ago. I am relieved I was not on it. I was a fool to have fallen for her. Since then, I have learned to see through the façade of a pretty face.”
“Agreed. I’ve heard rumors the late duke died under suspicious circumstances. He was almost sixty when they married, but the man seemed in peak health for his age—even the last time I saw him in Parliament,” Rochester said.
“Did you look into your suspicions?” Jonathan asked.
