“Whoa. Go after him? I think not. As brave as you are, here and now is not the place. And certainly not in your condition.” Rockford glanced at Frederic, Viscount Montague.
She looked up at him. “But I’m sure he was one of the men in that lodge.”
“Why would the Deputy Secretary of the Board of Control know one of the accomplices to an abduction?” As he turned to identify the man who had been speaking to Montague, he realized the man was gone. Rockford scanned the crowd. “Did you see who it was?”
“No.” Lora stood. He gave her his full attention.
“Come, I’ll retrieve your wrap and let Lady Harriet know your—”
“You will do no such thing.” Lora handed the vial back to the footman with a sincere thank you. Then, she adjusted her gloves. “I was a bit woozy from all the excitement.” She placed her hand on his arm, tilted her head, and stared at him. “Shall we, my lord?”
“Very well.” He glanced at the Deputy Secretary. “We’ll speak to Montague. He spoke to that man before he disappeared.” He guided her across the floor.
As they approached the viscount and his wife, Montague hailed someone across the room and hurried away. Montague’s departure was too sudden, too precise. A quick glance over his shoulder, the way his steps quickened, it wasn’t the exit of a man politely excusing himself. It was the retreat of someone avoiding confrontation.
Rockford’s suspicions deepened. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, especially not tonight.
“I do appreciate your concern.” Lora’s soft words reached him, but his mind was elsewhere. “It makes me feel,” She placed her hand on his chest. “Protected.”
He brought his attention back to her, patting her hand and letting his worries momentarily fade. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He spoke from his heart. His heart. She trusted him. And that was most precious to her and something he didn’t deserve.
The king would be here in six days. The mission would be completed, and he’d go back to London. As they neared another group, uneasy looks were exchanged between them before they dispersed. At first, he dismissed the cold glances as happenstance. But as more guests turned away, their conversations suddenly hushed, the realization settled in. This wasn’t mere indifference, it was calculated exclusion. And it wasn’t just directed at him, but at Lora as well. He had been privy to such slights before, but tonight, they cut deeper.
This second slight only confirmed something was amiss, a shadowy undercurrent he couldn’t yet grasp but knew he must uncover.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as they moved around the room. Leaving Sommer-by-the-Sea, no, leaving Lora, would be very difficult. The sooner this mission concluded, the better. If he left, it would separate her from his shadow and allow her to recover from the social consequences of their association.
“Perhaps it’s time.” She tilted his head toward him, “We shared what we’ve discovered with Barrington. Perhaps then we’d be back in their good graces.” She nodded toward the people.
He stared at her, absorbing her insight. She was right. They both were the brunt of the social slights, and it was more than just coincidence.
“Please, don’t be so surprised. We’ve taken a turn around the room, and people have stared and had their quiet little conversation, but no one has stopped to speak to us.”
“I agree…” Had she heard his thoughts, too? Or were things that obvious? “We should speak to Barrington,” he said. “Something has happened that we know nothing about. We cannot raise any alarms. We don’t know who we can trust.”
They stopped at the refreshment table. He handed Lora a cup of punch when Harriet joined them.
“You are most brave, Harriet. It appears no one is willing to spend any time with us.”
Harriet nearly spilled her punch down the front of her dress. She shot Lora a wry smile, dabbing at her dress. “Well, it’s their loss, isn’t it? They don’t know what fascinating company they’re missing.”
Before she could steady herself, a figure slipped through the crowd, calculated, precise. Hastings. His attire was immaculate, but his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. A prickle of unease danced down Lora’s spine as the corners of his mouth curved upward, not quite reaching his eyes.
“Lady Lora, Your Grace,” he intoned with practiced smoothness. “An evening befitting both your reputations.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lora met hisgaze evenly, suppressing the urge to retreat. She wondered what had drawn her to him. At the moment, she didn’t want to be near him. “Your presence adds to the success, Mr. Hastings.”
Rockford’s hand subtly shifted to rest on the small of Lora’s back.
She appreciated his quiet gesture of support. “We trust you’re enjoying the auction.”
“Immensely.” Hasting’s gaze flickered between them, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s heartening to see such dedication to… worthy causes. One hopes they remain untainted by less noble pursuits.”
An unspoken challenge hung in the air. Rockford’s expression remained inscrutable. He met Hastings’ gaze with unwavering confidence. “True dedication to a cause shines brightest when tested. Those who seek to undermine it will find their efforts futile.”
Hastings’ smile tightened, and a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. He quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Naturally,” he purred, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “Though appearances can be deceiving, wouldn’t you say?”
