Chapter Thirteen
8 October 1822
Afternoon
A t 3:30 in the afternoon, carriages entered the drive at Fallsmith Manor. Lady Beatrice, Lady Harriet, and Mrs. Bainbridge had come for tea, as did Lord Davenport, Mr. Hastings, and Rockford. All were greeted with the aromas of strong black tea and Mrs. Kelly’s freshly made lemon bars, scones, and sumptuous trifle.
The guests gathered in the drawing room, where the afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, brightening the room. Lora moved gracefully among her guests, ensuring each was comfortably seated with a cup of tea. The room buzzed with conversation ranging from the latest London gossip to passionate debates about art and culture.
“Have you all heard the latest scandal in London?” Hastings announced with a sly grin, his eyes locked onto Rockford’s. “A certain prominent Member of Parliament has found himself in quite the financial debacle. It seems he’s been creative with the books at the investment firm where he serves as a board member, and now the entire firm is under investigation.” His words hung in the air, a provocative challenge clearly intended for Rockford.
Lady Beatrice leaned in with interest, momentarily distracted from recounting her recent travels. “Oh, do tell more, Mr. Hastings. Scandals always make for the most riveting tales.”
Hastings smirked, taking a leisurely sip of his tea. “Indeed, Lady Beatrice. It appears this gentleman’s house of cards is tumbling down, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see more heads roll. London society is abuzz with speculation.”
Rockford maintained his composure, a cool smile playing on his lips. “It’s curious, Hastings, how those who manipulate their way to the top are always the first to point fingers. I trust your own ventures are as… transparent as they should be. Do give my regards to Lady Warburton. I’ve always admired her diamond and ruby necklace.”
Hastings’ smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of unease crossing his features. He recovered quickly, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and Rockford knew he had struck a nerve.
Before the tension could escalate further, Mrs. Bainbridge interjected, “On a brighter note, my recent travels to Brighton were most delightful. The waters truly are rejuvenating, and the architecture… simply splendid!”
“Speaking of splendid,” Lord Davenport added, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, “I recently visited Crispin Montgomery’s gallery. He has an exquisite John Constable on display. The brushwork is superb, capturing the English countryside with such vividness. I believe it would be a highlight at any gathering.”
The conversation flowed naturally, the tension eased as the guests moved to lighter topics. Laughter and the clinking of porcelain filled the room.
By 4:30 p.m. Lady Beatrice and Lord Davenport said their farewells and left to call on Lady Dorset. Lady Harriet, Mr. Hastings, and Duke Rockford remained.
“More tea, Mr. Hastings?” Lora asked, holding the teapot poised to pour.
“No, thank you.” Hastings’ smile was polite but didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Turning to Mrs. Bainbridge, Lora offered a warm smile. “And for you, Mrs. Bainbridge?”
Mrs. Bainbridge raised her cup with a gentle nod. “Yes, please. Just a bit more.”
“I’m so glad you stopped by today,” Lora said as she poured the tea. “It’s always lovely to see you.” She set the teapot down gently. Lora had fond memories of Mrs. Bainbridge’s female seminary, where she had met her dear friend Harriet.
Mrs. Bainbridge’s eyes twinkled with warmth. “The pleasure is mine, Lora. How are the plans for the clinic’s expansion coming along?”
Lora hesitated, glancing briefly at Hastings, then back to Mrs. Bainbridge. “It’s quite an undertaking. There are many perspectives and interests to balance, and I worry about ensuring everyone’s intentions align with the clinic’s mission.”
Mrs. Bainbridge nodded. “Yes, I am aware. Gossip travels quickly, I’m afraid.” She sipped her tea.
“The clinic’s expansion means so much to the community.” Lora stirred her tea. “We must safeguard its purpose and ensure it remains a place of trust and integrity.”
Mrs. Bainbridge reached out, patting Lora’s hand. “I know you will, Lora. Your dedication is your strength. Trust your instincts.”
Harriet, who had been listening quietly, added, “Lora, you have a wise head on your shoulders. Stay true to your principles and follow your heart.”
The door opened, and Mr. Axbridge entered carrying a vase filled with fresh lavender and other blooms, a gift from Rockford to Lora. Lora’s eyes lit up as he placed the vase on a nearby table. She gently touched the petals, bringing the vase closer to admire the flowers, and inhaled their soothing fragrance with a smile.
“How thoughtful, Your Grace. Lavender is my favorite,” she exclaimed, clearly pleased. “This is just what the room needed! The scent is so calming.” She raised an eyebrow in a playful, knowing gesture only Rockford could see.
“I should be going.” Hastings stood and nodded to the others. “Thank you for the tea, Lady Lora.”
“Of course, Mr. Hastings. Thank you for coming,” Lora replied with a warm smile.
As Hastings departed, Lora adjusted the vase and inhaled the fragrant blooms, the calming scent steadying her thoughts. Rockford approached, his presence warm and reassuring.
“I’m glad you like them,” Rockford said softly.
She opened her eyes and glanced at him. “They’re beautiful.”
She hesitated for a moment, then asked. “What made you so riled up with Mr. Hastings? I couldn’t help but notice the tension between you two.”
Rockford raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What makes you think I’m angry at Hastings?”
Lora chuckled lightly. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize that tone. You may fool others, but not me. And what about Lady Warburton’s necklace? It’s been in her family for generations.”
Rockford sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… differences in our approach to managing the clinic expansion finances. He has been speaking with the clinic board, and I fear his methods may lead to difficulty.”
Lora’s eyes softened with concern. That didn’t answer her question, but she didn’t pursue it. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
Rockford’s expression shifted to a mischievous smile. “You said you know me. Do you know me as well as you did when I was untying the knots in my breeches at the lake?”
Lora couldn’t help but laugh, the memory of that day bringing a picture to mind. “Oh, I remember that day well! You were so furious, and I couldn’t stop laughing.”
Rockford’s smile widened, the tension easing. “You’ve always had a knack for getting under my skin.” He leaned close so only she would hear, “Lora.”
She shook her head, still smiling. “And you’ve always had a way of making everything seem less serious.”
For a moment, they stood together, the air thick with unspoken memories and a deep, shared understanding. In that brief silence, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
Rockford’s eyes grew serious as he searched hers. “Lora, these past weeks have opened my eyes. You mean more to me than I ever realized. It’s not just friendship anymore. It’s something much deeper. You’ve become a part of me, and I can’t imagine my days without you.”
Lora’s breath caught, and her heart pounded. His words echoed in her head, stirring a whirlwind of emotions, fear of risking their friendship, hope for a deeper connection, and the uncertainty that came with stepping into the unknown. The shift in their relationship, the deepening of their connection, it wasn’t her imagination. Could she risk their friendship for the possibility of something more?
She looked into his eyes, seeing vulnerability and passion in his gaze. At that moment, she couldn’t keep her feelings to herself any longer. Lora took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his. “I feel that way, too. You’ve always held a special place in my heart, but now it’s different. It’s stronger.”
She took a step closer. “I’ve been afraid to say it, fearing it might change everything between us. But hearing you now… it fills me with hope.”
Rockford gently took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I’m ready to see where this takes us.”
Tears of relief and joy welled in Lora’s eyes, and she nodded, unable to find the words.
She squeezed his hand, her voice filled with emotion. “I don’t know what to say.”
Before Rockford could respond, the fragile stillness between them was interrupted by a sharp laugh, grounding them back in the bustling reality of the room. The abrupt sound shattered the intimate moment.
Mrs. Bainbridge had just told a particularly amusing anecdote, and Harriet was doubled over in laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Mrs. Bainbridge, noticing the subtle shift in the atmosphere. She turned to Rockford with a charming smile. “Your Grace, I’ve been meaning to discuss the upcoming charity ball with you. I hear your experience with such events is unparalleled, and I could use some advice on hosting something equally splendid.”
Rockford nodded graciously. “I would be delighted to assist, Mrs. Bainbridge.”
Mrs. Bainbridge beamed. “Wonderful! Perhaps we could discuss it here for a moment?” She gestured to a nearby chair, inviting Rockford to join her.
“I’ll leave you both to your discussion.” Harriet rose and walked over to Lora. Harriet’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Harriet admired the vase of flowers. “Mr. Hastings is ambitious, no doubt. He is jealous of the attention that Rockford gives you. Would you be interested in Mr. Hastings if he wasn’t dangling the clinic in front of you?”
Lora sighed, her thoughts still tangled with concerns about the clinic. “I have a great deal to sort out.”
Harriet patted her hand reassuringly. “Love is a mysterious thing, Lora. Sometimes, it appears when you least expect it.”
*
Outside the estate, the town was abuzz with whispers of the recent events. The tension between Rockford and Hastings had not gone unnoticed, and the community kept a close watch.
As he made his way back to the Stonehill Inn, a sly smile lit Hastings’ face. Cordial and polite. Weak, that’s what Lady Lora is. He could easily lead her and make Lady Lora his pawn to further his ambition. As for Rockford, he couldn’t wait to crush him.
When he reached the inn, Hastings bypassed the tavern’s noisy revelry, retreating to his room to review the documents he had ‘fixed’ yet again. He removed his jacket, poured himself a glass of port, and sat at the table. As he read the documents, Lora’s words echoed in his mind. She had spoken of integrity, of trust, and the value of honorable actions. Her conviction had struck a chord, one he had long buried beneath layers of ambition.
With the documents he had, even the King of England would listen to him. That kind of power was bigger than he’d ever dreamed as a boy scraping by. Yet her words made him pause. Was it enough to just be heard, or did he want more than just power? Respect? For the first time in a long while, his father’s voice echoed in his head. And with it, came a sense of guilt.
His thoughts drifted back to a dimly lit warehouse by the waterfront in London, where he met a man who had the power to change his life.
The flickering lantern cast long shadows on the stone walls, creating an atmosphere thick with secrecy. He straightened his coat, masking his apprehension with a veneer of confidence.
A voice emerged from the shadows, smooth and controlled. “Mr. Hastings, your punctuality is appreciated.”
Hastings kept his gaze steady, staring into the darkness. “I believe in seizing opportunities, and this meeting promises to be quite beneficial.”
“It has been some time since we’ve last met.”
Silence. What was he supposed to do? Say? He took a steadying breath and said nothing.
Out of the darkness came a soft chuckle. “Perhaps you have learned after all. We have heard of your ambitions,” the voice continued, unwavering. “The clinic is your path to redemption. After the debacle in France, you need to prove your worth. But don’t be fooled. This is your last chance.”
A shiver ran down Hastings’ spine, though he maintained his position. “I won’t fail.”
The voice grew colder. “You better not. I’ve gone to great lengths to get you a second chance. Fail us, and there is no coming back.”
Hastings’ heart pounded beneath his composed exterior. “What do you need from me?”
“Information and influence,” the voice replied. “Use your clinic to gather intelligence. Identify key people in the town who can be swayed or eliminated. Ensure our interests are protected and advanced.”
“Consider it done,” Hastings nodded, determination flaring in his eyes. “Remember, trust is a two-way street. I’ll expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
The voice responded with an air of finality. “We will be watching, Mr. Hastings. Do not disappoint us.”
Silence. Alone at last, he allowed himself a moment to breathe. The path he had chosen was dangerous, but the rewards outweighed the risks. He would never return to the streets of London. He would rather die first.
Hastings returned to the present, the memory of that fateful meeting a constant reminder of the high stakes. Failure was not an option, not when everything he craved was within reach and the price of defeat was unimaginable.