“We should head back,” she suggested softly. “Rockford is meeting me at the house soon. We’re supposed to finalize a few things for the luncheon, the next event in our march toward financing the expansion.”
“Of course.” Adam offered his arm again, and they returned and entered through the garden gate.
“His Grace and Lord Barrington are in the drawing room,” Axbridge announced as they stepped inside.
“Both of them?” Lora exchanged a concerned glance with Adam. A knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach, her earlier calm now replaced with a bubbling unease.
Without another word, she hurried down the corridor, the hem of her dress brushing against the polished marble floor. The familiar scent of polished wood and fresh lilies seemed cloying today and failed to soothe her racing heart. Adam kept pace beside her.
As they approached the drawing room, Lora hesitated for the briefest moment, taking a steadying breath before pushing theheavy oak door open. The sight that greeted her only deepened her worry.
Rockford stood by the fireplace, his posture rigid, one hand gripping the mantelpiece as if to anchor himself. The usually warm and inviting room felt chilled despite the crackling fire. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows that played across his chiseled features. His eyes, stormy and distant, were fixed on the dancing flames.
Barrington sat in a high-backed chair nearby. His fingers steepled under his chin, his expression grave. The air was thick with unspoken tension.
“Gentlemen?” Lora’s voice was gentle but edged with concern.
Both men turned upon her entering, Barrington rising out of the chair. Rockford’s gaze softened when he saw her, the hard lines of his face easing just a fraction, but the shadows remained. “I’m glad you’re here.” His deep voice carried a hint of weariness.
Barrington rose, offering a curt nod. “We have some concerning news that we need to discuss.”
Lora felt her heart skip a beat. She glanced between them, noting the seriousness etched on their faces. “What is it?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Rockford exchanged a brief look with Barrington before stepping forward. He held out an envelope, the seal broken. “You and I both received these this morning.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she took the envelope, its weight seeming heavier than mere paper should allow. Adam moved closer and glanced over her shoulder.
As she unfolded the letter, her eyes skimmed the elegantly penned words. With each line, a cold dread settled over her.
“They’ve uninvited me,” she murmured, the words tasting foreign on her tongue. “For the sake of harmony and toprotect the fundraising project.” The justification rang hollow, a carefully crafted excuse to mask a calculated slight.
She looked up, meeting Rockford’s gaze. The sympathy she found there threatened to undo her composure.
“I suspected this might happen,” Barrington interjected, his voice firm yet laced with frustration. “Hastings has been securing allies in high places, most notably, Earl Marchant and Viscount Montague.”
Adam’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “They uninvited you?” His voice was dangerously low before he refocused. “Marchant, the Surveyor General of Ordnance, and Montague, Deputy Secretary of the Board of Control? You think they’re involved with Hastings?”
Barrington nodded grimly. “It’s highly likely. They’ve been seen in several private meetings. Given their sway in society, their support could significantly bolster Hastings’ position.”
Rockford’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking just beneath the surface. “They’re the ones we’ve been investigating. They’re believed to be part of Hastings’ close circle. If they align against us, it would mean we’re close to finding the truth.”
A wave of dizziness washed over Lora. She pressed a hand to her temple, a headache blossoming behind her eyes. The room seemed to tilt slightly, the rich hues of the drapes and furnishings blurring at the edges.
“First Greene, now this,” she whispered, her voice touched with despair. “It feels like everything is coming apart.”
Adam stepped forward, his expression fierce and determined in a way she hadn’t seen before. “We need to act.” He glanced between Rockford and Lora. “If Hastings is consolidating power with Marchant and Montague, we have to expose them before—”
“The king arrives,” Lora finished, the seriousness of their predicament becoming obvious. She sank slowly into a nearby chair, momentarily sapped of her strength.
“Agreed,” Barrington said, his gaze steady. “But we need irrefutable evidence against them. Without it, any accusations we make could go very badly for us. They hold considerable influence.”
“There is another issue.” Barrington turned toward Rockford, Lora, and Adam. He took a brass button from his coat and handed it to Lora. “Can you identify this?”
Lora glanced at him and then at the brass piece, the threads still hanging from it. “There’s a signet on it.” She took a closer look. “A bird of sorts with its wings spread in front of a slanted rectangle, a diamond.” She handed it to her brother. “I’ve never seen it before. Why do you ask?”
Barrington exchanged a glance with Adam before passing the button to Rockford.
“Order of Shadows,” was all Rockford said. “It’s a clandestine crime organization known for its ruthless tactics and extensive network of informants. They operate in the shadows, manipulating events and people to their advantage. Their influence reaches the highest echelons of society.”
