Chapter Three
20 September 1822
A s Rockford’s carriage rolled along King’s Way, he gazed absently at the passing countryside, his mind consumed by the events of the past fortnight. It had been over two weeks since his return to Sommer-by-the-Sea, and he had wasted no time immersing himself in the investigation. Whispers of his scandal in London had followed him here. Small towns thrived on gossip, and while he paid it little heed, he couldn’t entirely dismiss the way it sharpened the townsfolk’s curiosity about his movements.
The elusive highwayman had not struck during this time, even though the royal courier had been dispatched four times. Peculiar. Coincidence? He doubted it, especially given that his prime suspects had conveniently left town on each occasion.
Meanwhile, the village buzzed with chatter about Dr. Manning’s clinic expansion. The gossip grew more heated by the day. Opposition to the project seemed to be mounting, and Rockford suspected the very people he was investigating were behind it. Every conversation he overheard held a hint of something deeper as if the entire village spoke in a code he was only beginning to decipher.
Rockford leaned back against the carriage seat and considered his next move. The pieces were all there, he just needed to fit them together. Helping Lady Lora with the clinic might do more than earn her gratitude. If the resistance to the clinic was connected to the larger plot he was investigating, then aiding her would not only be the right thing to do but also a strategic advantage.
Then, there was the scandal trailing behind him. As a duke, he enjoyed certain advantages. People still engaged with him, even if with caution. Yet their wariness worked to his benefit. Once they believed he was compromised, the people he was after would lower their guard, inadvertently revealing secrets they’d otherwise keep hidden. He could already feel the undercurrents shifting, each interaction a subtle maneuver in a larger game he was determined to win.
His carriage turned into the gate and down Fallsmith Manor’s drive. It had been some time since he was last here, and the sight of the imposing structure brought back a flood of memories.
The manor stood imposingly at the end of a long, tree-lined drive, its solid stone and brick facade projecting strength and permanence. The architecture confirmed the Fallsmith family’s wealth and influence, with ivy climbing its sturdy walls and large, mullioned windows reflecting the sun’s setting. An image of the manicured gardens came to mind, and the gate in the back stone wall that opened onto a path that meandered along the cliff’s edge. There was a perch where you could look out over the vast expanse of the North Sea.
Rockford recalled the evenings spent here, the grand gatherings and quiet moments alike. As the carriage drew closer, the elegance of the portico came into view. When the carriage came to a stop, Rockford stepped out and paused, noting with a touch of nostalgia that the manor stood just as it had the last time he’d visited. Venturing inside, he found everything as he remembered, the rich mahogany paneling, the black and white checkerboard marble floor with the Fallsmith family medallion in the center of the pattern. The intricate design was a hammer and anvil encircled by gilded rays of light. Around the edge, the family motto, Strength Forged in Honor .
“Good evening, Your Grace. It is good to see you again. Welcome back to Fallsmith Manor.”
“Good evening, Axbridge. It is good to be here.” He leaned in. “I’ll have to stop by and catch up on the local goings and comings.”
The very formal butler glanced at him and smiled. “Will the whiskey be pilfered from your father, Your Grace?”
“Not this time. I’ve upgraded to pilfering my own stock.” Rockford grinned. “I’ve learned a thing or two since my youth, Axbridge.”
The butler’s lips twitched, barely suppressing a smile. “I shall believe that when I see it, Your Grace.”
He followed Axbridge into the bustling ballroom. The room was alive with movement and sound. The light of the crystal chandeliers overhead danced across the gathering. The music played softly, but Rockford’s attention was elsewhere. He surveyed the crowd, noting familiar faces and potential allies. Laughter and conversation blended into a hum that filled the space, but he listened for particular voices, snippets of conversations that might interest him. For him, this gathering was more than a social event. It was an opportunity.
As Rockford made his way around the room, Lord Fallsmith approached him with a welcoming smile. “Rockford, it’s been far too long.” The earl extended his hand. His hair had greyed since Rockford last saw him, but his eyes still held the same sharp intelligence.
“Indeed, it has,” Rockford firmly shook Lord Fallsmith’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, my lord.”
Lady Fallsmith joined them, her elegant gown rustling softly. “Your Grace, you haven’t changed a bit,” she said warmly, her eyes reflecting genuine pleasure. “Perhaps a bit taller and less mischievous. We’ve missed your visits.”
Rockford chuckled as he bowed slightly. “Lady Fallsmith, the pleasure is mine. I’ve missed being here as well.”
“We must sit together. I’m eager for you to bring me up to date with what you’ve been doing.” Lord Fallsmith said. “With my brandy, not your father’s.”
Rockford and the earl both laughed. “I will see to it,” Rockford said.
“I was so surprised when Adam mentioned you had returned,” Lady Fallsmith went on.
The conversation went on for several more minutes. Lord Fallsmith gave a warm chuckle. “Well, Rockford, I trust you’ll find plenty of familiar faces here tonight. Do take the opportunity to reacquaint yourself.”
Lady Fallsmith nodded, her smile gracious. “Indeed, Your Grace. And if there’s anything you require, you need only ask. We won’t keep you from mingling.”
As he nodded and moved further into the room, he felt a sense of ease wash over him. Despite the years that had passed, the warmth and hospitality remained unchanged. He allowed a small smile to play at the corners of his lips. How easy it is to forget one’s roots when you’re away.
He scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, particularly Adam and Lady Lora. He nodded, greeting old acquaintances, his gaze sharp as he took in the subtle dynamics at play.
As he continued to weave through the gathering, Rockford spotted Lady Lora approaching him. Her emerald gown shimmered with every step, catching the light in a way that seemed almost deliberate. Her eyes sparkled, drawing him in with an energy that he could only describe as confident. Yes, that’s what it was. Confidence. It was in the graceful sway of her stride, the proud lift of her chin, and the way her shoulders squared as though the room revolved around her. Conversations paused as she passed, people eager to acknowledge her. She had grown, he realized, not just in beauty but in a presence that commanded attention without effort.
“Lady Lora. How has your evening been?” His voice was smooth and inviting. “Would you join me for a turn around the room?”
She returned his smile, taking his offered arm. “The evening has been quite delightful, though I must admit, your presence adds a certain charm.”
Rockford chuckled softly, guiding her through the crowd. “You flatter me, my lady.”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I believe our last conversation was rather… tense. I apologize. I was… preoccupied with some troubling news.”
Rockford’s smile widened slightly. “No apology is necessary. We all have our moments.”
Lora walked beside him in comfortable silence for a moment before speaking softly. “I hope you won’t think me impertinent, but I wanted to ask after your well-being.”
He glanced at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “That’s most kind of you. I assure you, I am quite well.”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “It’s just that… I’ve heard some whispers recently. Rumors that concern you. They troubled me, and I thought it best to speak with you directly.”
Rockford maintained a neutral expression, but someone who knew him well would see the flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “I see. Rumors have a way of spreading—often without merit, don’t they?”
“For that, I am glad.” She met his gaze. “I have always held you in high esteem. Even when you pulled my hair.”
His eyes widened. “Only after you tied the legs of my breeches in knots while I was swimming in the lake.”
She smirked. “Ah, but you were quite the sight trying to undo them.”
Rockford chuckled. “You were wise to keep your distance. If I remember, my thoughts were… less than noble.”
“Yes, best leave it there.” They walked on in companionable silence.
“Those summers at the lodge were some of the best,” she mused.
“Simpler times,” he agreed. He glanced at her, warmth in his gaze. “Perhaps we should visit again.”
She shot him a knowing look. “Only if you promise not to swim in the lake this time.”
He leaned in, voice low. “No promises.”
Lora laughed. “Then I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens.”
Rockford’s grin was full of mischief. “It appears some things never change.”
She tilted her head. “And here I thought dukes were fearless.”
“Oh, we are.” He offered his arm. “But even a duke knows better than to underestimate Lady Lora Preston.”
She laughed again, genuine and light. “Perhaps I’ve gained a reputation.”
“One that’s well-deserved.”
She rested her hand lightly on his forearm. “Shall we continue? There are some new faces you might be interested to meet.”
“Lead the way.” Rockford gestured gracefully. “I’m at your disposal.”
They continued their stroll through the ballroom, weaving elegantly between clusters of guests. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the room in a warm ambiance. The music, a combination of strings and pianoforte, blended into a cheerful melody that underscored the murmur of conversations.
The fragrant blooms strategically placed throughout the rooms and hallways added a subtle sweetness to the air, with the heady aroma of roses and honeyed notes of jasmine. The crisp, clean scent of lilies provided a refreshing contrast, and lavender added a calming, herbal undertone. Amid the floral symphony, a faint trace of lemon and smoke lingered, unexpected, yet easy to overlook.
As they walked, Rockford leaned in slightly. “I must admit, it’s refreshing to be back here. London has its charms, but it lacks the… authenticity of Sommer-by-the-Sea.”
Lora glanced up at him. “It’s a place that’s filled with nostalgia.”
“Indeed,” he nodded in agreement. “Tell me, who among our old acquaintances are present tonight?”
She pointed discreetly with her fan toward a distinguished gentleman speaking animatedly near the fireplace. “Lord Penton is here, still regaling anyone who’ll listen with tales of his travels.”
Rockford smiled. “Some things truly never change.”
“And over there,” she continued, “are Lord and Lady Atherstone. Their daughter Amelia has just returned from a season in London.”
“Ah, to be young and enamored with the ton,” he mused.
Lora gave him a sidelong glance. “You speak as though you’re ancient.”
“Merely experienced,” he replied with a wink.
Lora shook her head and chuckled. They paused briefly to greet a passing couple, exchanging pleasantries before moving on.
“How have you truly been, Rockford?” Lora asked softly as they resumed their walk. “It’s been ages since we’ve had a proper conversation.”
He considered her question for a moment. “Busy, as always. The responsibilities of the position, you know.”
She nodded. “I can only imagine.”
“But enough about me,” he said, steering the conversation. “I’ve heard of your involvement with the clinic’s expansion. That’s quite an undertaking.”
Her eyes brightened. “It’s a cause I believe in deeply. Access to proper medical care is something everyone deserves.”
He admired the passion in her expression; it lit up her face and made her even more beautiful. “Your dedication does you credit.”
Lora’s smile widened at the compliment. She turned her gaze briefly toward the crowd.
As they moved through the ballroom, a sharp, clipped voice rose above the hum of conversation. Rockford’s attention snapped to a group of men near the fireplace, their hushed but urgent tones setting them apart from the polite chatter around them. One man jabbed a finger toward another, his expression taut with frustration. Another shook his head sharply, his lips pressed into a thin line as if restraining his temper.
Their well-tailored coats and commanding stances suggested they were politicians, or at least men accustomed to wielding influence. Whatever their dispute, it was no idle discussion. Rockford glanced back at Lora, her voice still echoing in his thoughts, but his curiosity pulled him toward the gathering storm brewing by the hearth.
Lora noticed his momentary distraction and followed his gaze, leaning in slightly. “They seem quite… engaged, don’t they?”
Rockford nodded. “Indeed. It appears they’re discussing something of great importance.” He wondered what had them so excited.
“There is Lady Grantham. We must say hello.” Lora gestured near the fireplace. Rockford glanced at her, noting her expression. She seemed genuinely curious, not mischievous.
“By all means.” With a subtle squeeze of her arm, he guided her closer to the group, keen to catch a bit of their conversation without drawing too much attention.
“…this highwayman is ruining everything we’ve planned.” The snippet of conversation reached his ears, piquing his interest.
“Interesting,” Rockford murmured under his breath, his gaze never wavering from the group. It seemed there was more at stake tonight than mere social pleasantries.
“We must act now.” The man’s agitation grew. He was at the edge of panic. “I say we confront him tonight, armed and ready.”
Rockford watched as the others walked the man out onto the terrace. “Fear clouds judgment,” his voice barely perceptible above the din of the ballroom. The truth of his words resonated with him as he considered their next move.
Lora turned to him, her eyes filled with concern. “What are we going to do? This highwayman seems unstoppable.”
Rockford maintained his composure. “If I were in their position, I’d focus on a strategic plan,” he said in a calm and steady manner. “First, they need to concentrate on finding the solution rather than dwelling on the obstacle. Panicking and rushing into action will only make things worse. It could get them killed. Second, they need to gather more information, think several steps ahead, and set a trap to outsmart him. Rushing into action without a clear path most often leads to disaster.”
Lora nodded slowly, absorbing his words. “You’re very good at this.” There was an appreciation in her voice he hadn’t heard before.
“It’s the second best thing I do.” He gave her a smile that could charm the birds from the trees.
“Dare I ask what is the best thing you do?” She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent from smiling.
He leaned close and whispered, “I’m a gentleman, my lady…but I do have my moments.”
Lora’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and a subtle smile played on her lips. He observed the blush creep from her neck onto her cheeks. “I do enjoy a man with moments, Your Grace.”
“Good evening, Your Grace, Lora.” Lady Harriet and several others passed by them, their faces alight with excitement.
“Lora, you must come at once,” one of them said urgently. “Lady Dorset wishes to speak with you about the clinic.”
Lora glanced at Rockford, a question in her eyes.
He gently untucked her hand from his arm. “You go ahead,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here.”
With Lady Lora whisked away by her friends, Rockford was momentarily alone. He made his way towards the terrace. With any luck, the men would still be there.
The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. Rockford stepped onto the terrace, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He spotted the group huddled together, their voices low but urgent.
He positioned himself near a stone pillar, close enough to catch fragments of their conversation without drawing attention to himself.
“…must find a way to deal with him,” one voice hissed. “If he continues, he could expose all of us.
“Do you think he knows about the gun shipments?” another voice, laced with anxiety, asked.
“It’s possible,” a third voice replied, a hint of caution in his tone. “We need to be cautious.”
“And the documents,” a different voice interjected. “If there were intercepted…”
“Which documents?” someone demanded sharply.
“The correspondence you altered addressed to the royal council,” came the hushed response.
“If that falls into the wrong hands,” the first voice said, “there is a good chance they will see it was forged…”
Forged royal documents? Arms shipments? Correspondence? Financial Records? Rockford’s heart quickened. He needed to know more, but the conversation shifted.
“Keep an eye on Hastings,” the cautious voice said. “He’s been asking too many questions. We can’t afford any mistakes, not with the arms trade involved.”
Rockford strained to hear more, but the men went off in different directions, their expressions tense. As Rockford turned to re-enter the ballroom, he nearly collided with Barrington.
“There you are. I was beginning to think you had disappeared.” Barrington stepped aside, allowing him to enter.
“Just needed a breath of fresh air. Do you know the men who just left the terrace?”
Barrington looked toward where Rockford gestured. The men had already been absorbed into the crowd. “No, I didn’t get a clear look at them.” Barrington glanced at him. “Why do you ask?”
They walked into the ballroom. “They had some interesting information.”
“Here?” Barrington’s eyes widened in surprise, and then slowly, his expression turned into an approving glance. “We can’t talk here, obviously. Meet me tomorrow at my club. We can talk there.”
Rockford nodded as they made their way to the refreshment table.
*
“Lady Dorset’s question was simple enough to answer. Of course, the project is going forward.” Lora stood with Harriet, the others dancing or at the refreshment table.
“You’re to have a rest from the clinic and all its happenings tonight. At least pretend you’re having a good time.” Harriet paused. She wasn’t fooled. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You seem preoccupied. What are you chewing on?”
Lora sighed, glancing around to make certain no one else was within earshot. “Father spoke to me before our guests arrived.”
Harriet raised an eyebrow. “There is more to this story. What did he tell you?”
Lora, who had been looking out at the dance floor turned to Harriet. “He’s leaving for Brighton in the morning, and he made it quite clear that when he returns, he expects to know the name of my suitor.”
Harriet’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, Lora. I feared this would happen.”
“Yes, I know. You have tried to spare me this embarrassment.” He let out a deep sigh.
“The first thing we are going to do is let him see you having a good time dancing the night away.”
Lora laughed. “You’re right. Get him wondering who I’m going to choose.”
Harriet smilid, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Exactly. Now, I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all night. There are several eligible gentlemen here tonight,” Harriet said as she scanned the room. “Shall we find you a charming dance partner or two?”
Lora smiled politely, though her thoughts were still on Rockford. “Who do you have in mind, Harriet?”
Harriet’s gaze landed on two gentlemen engaged in conversation. “There’s Lord Penton. He seems to be wherever you are. And there is Mr. Whitfield. He comes from quite a charming and excellent family. You should get on the dance floor unless you want your father to take action. Would you like me to introduce you?”
Lora hesitated, her gaze drifting back to where she had last seen Rockford. “Lord Penton can travel all he wants. He is still as dull as dishwater. He came up to me earlier. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to meet Mr. Whitfield. I understand he is the owner of one of the new mills on the Sommer River.”
Harriet beamed and quickly led Lora over to him.
“Lady Lora, may I introduce Mr. Whitfield. He is new to Sommer-by-the-Sea, most recently from Royston.” Harriet turned to the gentleman. “Mr. Whitfield, this is Lady Lora Preston.”
Mr. Whitfield bowed respectfully as the music started. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Lora.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Whitfield. Welcome to Fallsmith.” Lora inclined her head gracefully.
“Lady Lora, I hoped you would honor me with a dance.” He held out his hand.
Lora put her hand in his. “Excuse us, Lady Harriet.”
“By all means,” Harriet said with a satisfied smile as Lora and Mr. Whitfield took to the dance floor.
“Lady Lora,” Mr. Whitfield began, “have you had the chance to visit the new botanical gardens in town? They’ve recently added some rare orchids that are quite stunning.”
Lora’s eyes lit up with interest. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet, but I’ve heard wonderful things about the gardens. I passed by when a shipment of flowers and exotic plants arrived for the new hothouse. Do you enjoy botany, Mr. Whitfield?”
“I do, indeed,” he replied. “There’s something quite peaceful about spending time among the flowers. It’s a welcome respite from the busyness of daily life.”
“I can imagine,” Lora nodded. “I’ve always found nature to be very calming. Do you have a favorite bloom?”
Mr. Whitfield thought for a moment. “I’d have to say the camellia. It’s an exotic choice from the Orient, but there’s something timeless about its beauty and elegance. And you, Lady Lora?”
“I’ve always been fond of lavender,” she replied with a smile. “The scent is soothing, the flower is a lovely color, and it reminds me of home.”
As they continued to dance, Mr. Whitfield glanced around the room. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Sommer-by-the-Sea.”
Lora smiled. “Have you had the chance to reconnect with anyone this evening?”
“A few acquaintances, yes,” he said. “But I must admit, meeting you has been the highlight of my evening.”
Lora blushed slightly. “You’re too kind, Mr. Whitfield.”
As she glided across the dance floor with Mr. Whitfield, his words became a distant murmur, hardly penetrating the haze of her thoughts. The room swirled around her in a blur of colors and laughter, but her attention was drawn beyond her partner’s shoulder. There, at the edge of the ballroom, stood Rockford. Although his tall figure stood partially in the shadows, his gaze was unmistakably fixed on her, piercing through the crowd with an intensity that sent a thrill racing up her spine. The world seemed to slow, the music fading as their eyes locked across the distance.
In that charged moment, he gave a subtle nod, a gesture so slight that it could have gone unnoticed by anyone not utterly captivated by him. Her heart skipped a beat, then fluttered wildly like a captive bird yearning for release. A warm flush bloomed in her cheeks, spreading through her like fire leaving her both exhilarated and unsteady. The air between them felt tangible, stretched taut with unspoken words and lingering possibilities.
Lora barely noticed when Mr. Whitfield spun her gracefully, his polite smile not reaching the depths of emotion she sensed from Rockford’s mere glance. What is he thinking? she wondered, her mind racing. Does he feel this compelling pull as I do? The questions tumbled in her thoughts, igniting a spark of anticipation and desire she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge until now.
As the dance drew to a close, she found herself breathless, not from the waltz, but from the profound connection that had passed between her and Rockford in those fleeting, stolen moments. The awareness lingered and left her longing for more.