Page 84 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
“My Lady?”
Martha’s voice made her look up. “Hmm?”
“Your breakfast,” the maid said. “Do you want to finish it?”
“No,” she said while standing. A pressing need to go visit Duke rested on her shoulders. “I have to clear my thoughts for a moment.”
The air was cold, but her dress of sturdy thick wool kept her warm. The new stable felt like freshly-cut wood, hay, horses, and leather. She gave Bessie an apologetic look and went directly to Duke. He was fidgeting, tossing his head to and fro, and Penelope knew he was searching for his master.
She took his head, scratched his ears and smiled wanly, “I know, I know, Your Highness, I miss him too. I’m…” she breathed in sharply, “still hurt. Every day it feels like he steals another part of my heart away until there is nothing left.”
Duke’s head cocked to the side. “I…miss him. I miss Heath.” Another shuddering breath left her, “A man just asked me to marry him today…but I cannot marry him. It may be sensible but…I don’t think I can marry him.”
Because my heart is already taken.
After feeding Duke, she brushed Bessie down and took a detour through the gardens on her way back to the house. There were no blossoms, and the shrubs were slowly losing their color as the plants died.
“Too much of poetic justice here,” Penelope said wryly while brushing her fingers over the dying leaves. “But I cannot marry Hillbrook.”
Drifting back inside when her lips began to get dry, she went to find Martha. She could ask her friend her opinion on the matter but decided to hold off on saying it yet.
* * *
Brooks Gentleman’s Club, London.
A Month Later
Wethington dropped a file on the desk before Heath. “Another one had been found dead. This time, it is Lord Ogilvie, he was coming back with information on who has been sending Bonaparte gifts.”
“Gifts?”
“Contraband goods, gold, letters with directions to incapacitate his guards and escape Elba perhaps,” Wethington said sourly. “But that is not the point, Murray. More allies to the Crown are dying, and we don’t know why.”
A deep frown creased Heath’s forehead as he opened the file. The name, Pierre Montgomery, Baron of Ogilvie was three-and-forty years and an Agent for the Crown. He had been journeying back to London and had stopped at his contact in Bath. That was the last time anyone had seen him until his body had floated up in a pool.
“What does this have to do with me?” Heath asked tiredly.
He had not begun to formally resign from the service but the toll of the last month-and-a-half was telling on him. Penelope was never far from his mind as the last interaction they had was still slicing his soul into pieces. He had even lost some weight.
“Ogilvie was another at Allerton’s hunt,” Wethington said simply. “One way or another, Allerton is still a contact point in all this.”
“But you have grilled him for over a month now, and there is nothing of suspect found against him,” Heath said. “And furthermore, you have let Swanville go. It is him.”
“It is not him,” Wethington said calmly though ice was underscoring his words, “We have eyes on him, and he had not left his chalet in all that time. The few that do go visit him are tailed too, and they are circumspect. He is off the suspect list.”
Fatigue was clawing at Heath’s body, but his mind was still sharp. “Who do you suspect?”
“Murray, do you know that Allerton’s father, Lord Aaron Bertram Dawson had key connections on the Prussian Nobility?” Wethington said. “The man forged allies with those aristocrats easier than you and I breathe air.”
Heath blinked. That’s how they got the air guns.
“Most of those allies are still alive, Murray, and they have more power than before. Case in point is Theodor von der Recke, he is a part of the Uradel class, which I am sure you know—”
“Descends from ancient nobility, of House of Hohenzollern, yes,” Heath said impatiently. “What of it?”
“That man holds as much power as the Regent as he controls Brandenburg-Jägerndorf as the Herzog or Duke in our terms,” Wethington said tightly. “And he is noted to have as much respect for the law as Galileo had for the Pope. He can become a problem if aggravated or even worse, asked.”
“But who would ask him illegal favors?” Heath asked. “I doubt Allerton can do so, and Lady Penelope would never even contemplate it.”
