If it was right, and all these clues led to her husband, she had to get hold of Albie. She had to warn him that Reginald knew who he was.
She would have to tell Albion she had betrayed him.
As she stood, stunned, trying to decide what to do next, Izzie appeared in the doorway bearing the silver tray that held correspondence.
“Gads,” she muttered, looking around. “No wonder his lordship didn’t want you in here. He’s a strange buck, he is.”
Diana tensed, waiting for Izzie to see what she saw in the room. And then, realizing that she couldn’t allow clever Isabel to put the puzzle pieces together, she adjusted her hand to cover the sigil bearing the ghost orchid.
“I’m not supposed to be in here,” Izzie said. “Mrs. Waverly made that right clear. But a gent left a note, and I decided I’d better come and deliver it myself.” She lowered her voice. “Said it’s from Sir Reginald Addington. You seemed upset after your last time dealing with that bloke.”
Diana released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you, Izzie.”
She nodded and gestured toward the correspondence. “Go on, then. I put the letter opener there so you can get right to it.”
Not having the energy, or truth be told, the inclination to ask Izzie to leave. Diana grasped hold of the sharp device and tried to control the tremor in her hands as she slit the wax seal on the missive.
I am most grateful for your service, madam. I shall board a ferry to Calais this very night and soon be in Chamberly for my rendezvous with a gentleman of our mutual acquaintance. Rest assured that all of the secrets of your past remain safe with me.
Her pulse galloped at an alarming rate. She hadn’t required further proof, but it was in print nonetheless. Albion Higgins was the Benevolent Phantom.
What had she done?
As though looking through a gauze curtain, images ran through her mind. Albion boarding a packet ship in Newhaven, perhaps trying to elude detection by taking a circuitous route. Where Reginald Addington awaited him, no doubt accompanied by Rostin’s brutish mercenaries. Albion, her dear Albie, apprehended at the gates of Chamberly. Her Albie, wrists locked in oversized shackles, paraded through the streets to the Duke of Rostin himself. And then …
She couldn’t just stand here, frozen in place like a frightened deer. She needed to act. Sir Reginald had identified the Phantom and was ready to hand him over to the Duke of Rostin on a silver platter.
All because of her reckless words.
Had she confided in Albie in the first place, it never would have come to this. Together, they would have agreed to some stratagem or another to spirit Lillian out of danger. Her pride alone, her fear of what Albie would think of her for mooning over the damnable Nigel Halman, led to ill-judgement after ill-judgement on her part.
Diana was at fault. And she was the one who could set it all right. She would travel to Chamberly herself. She would do anything to ensure Albie and Lillian returned to London safely. Even if it meant sacrificing herself. If it came to it, she would tell Reginaldshewas the Benevolent Phantom. Let his mercenaries drag her before Rostin.
After all, what did her life matter compared to the two individuals she loved most in the world? Her sister and her husband. Were there some incantation she might invoke toswitch places with either of them at once, exchanging her safety for theirs, Diana would have done so at once.
As matters stood, she needed help. Someone with the means to get her to Chamberly. To Albie.
She couldn’t expect him to forgive her. Hopefully, she would have a chance to tell him how much she loved him.
For now, she focused on the logistics. If anyone could help her, it was those closest to her husband—his family. Diana continued to the stairwell as had been her original intention, beckoning Izzie to follow.
“I need you to deliver a note. Grant me a few minutes to scribble it down.”
“Might I help you change first?” Izzie said, flicking her gaze over the crumpled Orcan gown from the night before.
“There is no time,” Diana told her. “I must go to the Duchess of Barrington at once. To Iris Higgins. Lord Albion is in grave danger.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“It is good of you to come and to represent the Hidden Realm’s interest in the situation, brother,” Lillian Stewart told him. Her hands worked the linen of her humble navy blue nursing habit, with a hood covering most of her hair and shadowing her face. “Though I must confess to astonishment in finding you here. If I might inquire, what motivates your visit?”
“Honor,” Albion replied, swinging his hands behind his back and clasping them tightly, carefully interlacing his fingers so as not to cause inadvertent damage from his claws. It wouldn’t do to allow his sister-in-law to witness any hint of the shockingly unsteady state of his nerves.
“That our homeland has been unresponsive to the war and Rostin’s unwarranted cruelty to this land is of deep concern to my brother, His Grace,” he added. “Hence, I am tasked with bringing attention to this horrendous situation. I hope you might be so kind as to escort me around this place.”
Albion gave his usual amiable smile while inwardly giving thanks to all that was right in the world that he had made it and that Lillian Stewart appeared unharmed.
For now.
