“No reason to do so, milady. I just pass the letters along.”
“I see. And you don’t remember anything about the letters Ninette received? A name, an address, even the city where they came from?” Olivia persisted.
Before the woman could respond with more denials, Dale had an inspiration.
“Think carefully, Mrs. Rossington. We have reason to suspect Ninette might have been involved in some illegal activities. This has recently come to light, and we are investigating it. I am sure you would never want to be involved in any crime. Any information you provide would be appreciated and handsomely rewarded.”
Mrs Rossington’s eyes widened, and she paled. Now the fear of the repercussions and the enticement of a potential reward showed in her eyes, warring with whatever had kept her silent before.
“I have done nothing wrong! I know nothing of the content of those letters. I just received them for her.”
“We understand Mrs Rossington. I have known you for many years and know you are an honest, hardworking woman. But if the investigator who is looking into this for the magistrate finds out about the letters...” Dale trailed off, leaving her to imagine the consequences. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. To point him in the right direction.”
Fear won. Mrs Rossington started spilling what she knew.
“The letters were from a French gentleman, but they were coming from a London address.” She scrunched up her face in thought. “If I remember correctly, his name was Antoine Duvall. No, wait, not Duvall. Dubois.”
“Do you remember the address?”
“Not exactly. But I remember the name of the street. Bedford, that’s what it was called.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Rossington.” Dale placed a few gold coins in Mrs. Rossington’s hands. “That information might prove useful indeed. We appreciate your help. If you remember anything else, please send a note to the hall.”
Then they departed, leaving Mrs. Rossington looking pleased to have received a reward and relieved to have the duke’s support.
Sitting across from Olivia on their way back to the hall, Dale pondered the significance of what they had learned.
“Do you think this gentleman who was corresponding with Ninette could be Eloise’s lover, and Ninette was picking up the letters for her mistress?” Dale asked.
“Maybe. Are you sure you want to pursue this? It’s all in the past now. Or is the subject still too painful to put behind?”
Dale thought about his response for a few moments. “Not precisely painful. The subject will always be sensitive to me, but the years have dulled the pain of her death. The guilt, however, has never lessened. I guess that’s why I’m pursuing this. I need to know if there is some detail in this story that may make me less... guilty.”
“In that case, there might be some value in learning the truth. I will support you in your quest.” She said, getting up and sitting on his lap. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.
The spontaneous gesture caught him off guard for a second. The next, he tightened his arms around her waist and pressed her to him, devouring her mouth. Wanting only to get lost in the sweet oblivion of her passion. But the carriage was drawing to a halt and the change in momentum brought him back to reality. Dale groaned in frustration while tearing his mouth from her lips.
Olivia opened her eyes to stare at him with unfocused eyes.
“Later,” he told her.
It was a promise.
