Chapter Six
T he Sommer River Club, with its plush velvet chairs and polished mahogany tables, was a haven of quiet sophistication, a stark contrast to the busy streets outside. Rockford found Barrington seated in a private corner, a stack of documents spread out before him.
“Good morning, Rockford.” Barrington looked up from his papers. “I trust you rested well?”
“Well enough.” Rockford sat across from his friend, signaling the footman for a drink.
Barrington put down the papers and gave Rockford his full attention. “Indeed. Are you absolutely certain about this? Misleading Lady Lora is no small matter. We must be certain there’s no other way.”
Rockford leaned forward, the gravity of his decision written on his face. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to justify his course of action to Barrington and himself.
“I’ve considered every possibility. The stakes are too high to waver now,” His voice steady despite the turmoil deep in his heart. “If we don’t act before the king arrives, the consequences could be disastrous.”
Barrington sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Go on.”
“The rumors are spreading faster than we anticipated, faster than we can control,” Rockford explained, his tone edged with urgency. “That’s exactly what we intended. It paints me as someone vulnerable, someone the true culprit might believe they can manipulate.
“Hastings has expanded my role in the scandal to being an even greater rogue. He spun the story so convincingly that even those outside his circle are starting to believe it. If we don’t act before the king arrives, the scandal we created will no longer be just a tool, it will become the distraction that allows real corruption to thrive. Worse, it risks drawing His Majesty into a carefully woven web of deceit, forcing him to act based on falsehoods rather than truth. A single misstep in his judgment could destabilize the government, weaken our allies, and leave the crown compromised.
“I cannot allow that.” His jaw tightened. “If playing the role Hastings has given me ensures we get to the truth, then that is the role I must play. Even if it costs me everything.”
Barrington’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “So we stay with the plan.”
“Precisely. Hastings must believe he’s winning, but we need to act quickly,” Rockford crossed his arms, his gaze fixed. “The chaos would only increase with His Majesty here.”
Barrington leaned forward slightly. “And Lady Lora?”
Rockford’s jaw tightened. “She’s in danger because of Hastings. His efforts to undermine the clinic already threaten her work, but if he sees the Fallsmith fortune as an opportunity, that could make her an even bigger target. The only way to protect her is to stay close, and we both know she won’t willingly accept our help if she knew the truth.”
Barrington remained quiet, his expression stern as Rockford stood. “I see your point. Now that we know Hastings is involved, the scandal is more than just a means to lure him out. It’s becoming a weapon our enemies could use against the monarchy. If public trust erodes, it’s nearly impossible to regain. We can’t let that happen.”
“It’s also our duty to prevent this from touching the king.” Rockford leaned closer, his voice low. “Allowing this to escalate, would be a failure on our part.”
“Exactly.” Barrington paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.
“Acting now gives us the element of surprise. If we wait, Hastings and his allies could entrench themselves further, and it will be even harder to dismantle their plans.”
Barrington nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve clearly thought this through.”
“And then there’s the legacy we’ll leave behind,” Rockford added quietly. “Resolving this scandal sets a precedent for dealing with corruption, securing the future of the kingdom. We can’t afford to hesitate.”
Barrington let out a long breath, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “Very well. We proceed as planned. But know this, Rockford, deceiving Lady Lora will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Make sure you’re ready to face that.”
Rockford nodded, the gravity of his decision clear in his expression. “I am. For her sake and for the kingdom, I am. Now, let me tell you what I overheard last night.”
The footman set a cup of coffee on the table. Rockford took a sip, then leaned closer to Barrington, lowering his voice. “The highwayman is targeting specific items, documents and shipments of arms, that could be linked to the corruption we’ve been investigating in London.”
Barrington leaned forward, his expression sharpened. “What kind of documents?”
“Royal correspondence and financial records,” Rockford replied grimly. “Worse, some of the royal documents have been forged.”
Barrington’s usual composure slipped. “Forged royal documents? If those reach the wrong hands—”
“They’ll undermine trust in the monarchy itself,” Rockford finished. “Recovering them is critical. The financial records implicate high-ranking officials, exposing just how deep this network runs.”
Barrington nodded, his expression dark. “If the wrong people intercept those documents, it could be catastrophic.”
“Exactly. And with the king arriving in four weeks, there’s no time to waste.”
Barrington exhaled, his mind already working through the possibilities. “We have some avenues to explore. Lord Whitfield has been unusually secretive, and there is something questionable about Sir Becket’s financial dealings.”
“And Hastings,” Rockford added. “His rise among the wealthy and powerful is suspicious at best. We need to dig deeper into his connections before it’s too late.”
Barrington tossed the papers onto the table with a scowl. “Hastings isn’t just a pawn. He’s facilitating these transactions, an intermediary for corrupt politicians, brokering deals in exchange for wealth and influence. He’s profiting from both sides of the scheme.”
Rockford took another sip of coffee, his mind racing. “If he’s this deeply entangled, bringing him down could unravel the network.” He exhaled sharply. “But we’d need more than just suspicion. We need proof that his involvement ties back to the forgeries and the missing documents.”
“Exactly,” Barrington agreed.
Rockford’s gaze darkened. “And Lady Lora? Hastings’ interest in her isn’t just social, is it?”
Barrington’s expression turned grim. “No. He’s after her fortune. The endowment from her grandmother is substantial. Marrying her would give him direct access to that wealth.”
Rockford’s posture stiffened. “How do you know this?”
Barrington let out a dry chuckle. “Because Hastings was careless enough to say it himself. I overheard him talking to Mr. Whitfield near the cliffs, both of them had been drinking. Hastings let slip that he had ‘inside knowledge’ from a banker about her endowment. He spoke as if her fortune was already his to claim.”
Rockford’s jaw clenched. “Then he’s not just using the scandal to ruin me. He’s maneuvering to trap her.”
*
Lora’s day began as any other. She rose to a cup of hot cocoa brought in on a tray by Teresa. As she went about her morning routine, her thoughts drifted to the previous night. Dancing with Hastings had been pleasant enough, but it was her moments with Rockford that lingered. She couldn’t explain why she felt so strongly about him. They had known each other since childhood. Perhaps that was the reason. Familiarity.
Finishing her cocoa, she dressed, took her pelisse and reticule, and headed downstairs.
“Your carriage is waiting as you requested, my lady,” James said, opening the door and escorting her outside.
She took a deep breath, savoring the hint of a second summer mixed with the first chill of autumn. As James helped her into the carriage, she settled onto the seat, but her thoughts refused to do the same.
Rockford’s words from last night lingered in her mind, weaving themselves into her growing uncertainty. Hastings had been attentive, charming even, yet something about him never felt quite real. Rockford, on the other hand… he had always been a contradiction, distant one moment, frustratingly mysterious the next. And yet, when she was with him, the world seemed sharper, more alive.
By the time she arrived at Lockford Hall, her thoughts were no clearer.
Soon, she was seated at Harriet’s breakfast table, stirring her tea absentmindedly. “I’m conflicted about Rockford and Hastings,” she admitted, staring into her cup. “They’re so… different.”
Harriet looked up, her eyes filled with gentle concern. “Different, how?”
“Rockford is steadfast and reliable, but often infuriatingly overprotective,” Lora said with a sigh. “He reminds me of Father, always trying to steer my decisions.”
“And Hastings?”
“He’s intriguing,” Lora said, her eyes brightening. “Charming in a way that feels refreshing. When we spoke after the gala, he showed genuine interest in the clinic and even suggested ways to secure funding.”
Harriet furrowed slightly. “What sort of ways?”
“Loans for such projects can be arranged if one knows the right people,” Lora explained. “He offered to introduce me to people who would be interested.”
“Lora,” Harriet said carefully, setting her cup down, “isn’t it rather forward for him to discuss financial matters with you?”
“Perhaps,” Lora admitted as she met her friend’s gaze, “but he seemed sincere. It’s hard not to be intrigued by someone who shares my passion for the clinic.”
“Even so,” Harriet cautioned, “gentlemen don’t usually broach such topics with a lady he’s just met. It might be wise to exercise caution.”
“You think he has ulterior motives?” Lora asked, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
Harriet hesitated. “Not necessarily, but with your inheritance and standing, some men may see more than just your admirable qualities.”
Lora traced the rim of her teacup, her gaze distant. “I know. That’s why I want someone who respects my independence and supports my work.”
“Someone like Rockford?” Harriet suggested softly.
Lora gave a bitter laugh. “Rockford challenges me, yes, but he keeps so much to himself. He left the gala without a word. It’s as if he’s hiding something.”
“Have you considered speaking with him about it?”
“Every time I try, there’s a wall between us,” Lora said, frustration creeping into her voice. “Hastings, though… he makes me feel appreciated. Listened to.”
Harriet reached across the table, her hand covering Lora’s. “Just promise me you’ll be cautious. Sometimes, people say what they believe you wish to hear.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Lora murmured. “I shouldn’t be too quick to trust.”
“Exactly. And if you have doubts, take time to consider them carefully. Don’t let anyone rush you.”
“Thank you, Harriet.” Lora managed a smile. “Your counsel means so much to me.”
“Now,” Harriet said warmly, “shall we walk in the gardens in town? I haven’t been there in a while.”
“I’d like that,” Lora agreed. “It would be nice to clear my head.” She put down her teacup. “I understand there are rare camellias in the botanical garden.”
“Then it’s settled,” Harriet said, her eyes brightening. “We’ll make a day of it. We may even stop at Madame Pembroke’s shop. I understand she has some new gowns.”