“Please send a bill for what you expend for your sources.”
“But why this intense interest now?” Mr. Martin asked.
“Lady Darkford has just begun to socialize again, and is speaking to people,” the Duchess said.
“Worse,” Lakehurst cut in. “She is being followed.”
“Followed?” Mr. Martin’s brow furrowed. He leaned forward.
Lakehurst nodded. “Yesterday, at Hyde Park, a man followed her to her townhouse. Afterward, he talked to a street sweeper boy and bribed him to let him know at the Wild Boar Tavern who visited and when she left the house.”
“How did you come by this information?” Mr. Martin asked sharply.
“Rose, Gwinnie’s maid, followed the man and spoke to the boy afterward.”
Mr. Martin nodded. “I know Rose from the time she spends at Mrs. Southerlands’ with Lady Guinevere.”
“I just learned the other day that Gwinnie goes in disguise as someone named Sarah?” the Duchess said repressively.
“Miss Sarah Knolls,” Mr. Martin supplied.
She raised a singular brow again. Lakehurst remembered being intimidated as a child by that raised eyebrow. No one could do it quite like his grandmother, though others might try. He used to practice the action standing in front of a mirror—to no avail. His eyebrows just wouldn’t work that way.
“Your Grace, I could wish you were not having this dinner party,” Mr. Martin said.
“Why? I think it could be quite amusing.”
He shook his head. “Your Grace, this is a serious matter. Serious events have occurred. From what Lord Lakehurst has said he learned from the Duke, I would surmise Lady Darkford, and potentially her son as well, might be in danger.”
“Danger. Why do you say that?”
“I can speak to that,” Lakehurst said. “According to what Ellinbourne told me, that last meeting was an unusually small gathering. Not one of his normal parties. No other women were present. With a man now following her as she starts to show herself again, she might well be targeted.”
“Why?”
Mr. Martin shook his head. “Perhaps Lady Darkford knows something she doesn’t realize she knows. But does evil ever make sense, Your Grace?”
She slumped back against the cushions of her sofa.
Lakehurst nodded. “It makes me wonder if your idea of having us go to Baydon is wise. The villains could still be in that area and we would bring her directly back to them.”
“It could be a two-edged sword, my lord,” Mr. Martin said.
“How so?”
“It is difficult to protect a person in London. Strangers are all about. Life is cheap and murderers, thieves, and kidnappers—they are all for hire here. In the country, at one estate, everyone knows the people there. It is a closed environment. Take servants with you that you can trust and have them also provide security.”
“I wish Malmsby were not off in Northumberland nor Aidan on his honeymoon,” said the Duchess testily. “They could accompany you.” She took a deep breath. “I am almost inclined to not promote the trip, but I fear Lady Darkford needs it to banish her ghosts. And the dynamics with the Tidemarks do concern me. Can you not go as well, Mr. Martin?”
“No, Your Grace. Not for at least a week. I am stuck in town to appear as a witness for the prosecution in a couple of scheduled trials.”
“When do you expect this trip to take place?” Lakehurst asked his mother.
“As soon as possible, before anyone has had a chance to think it through, and perhaps the people who are following Lady Darkford to understand what is happening.”
“I would say that is wise,” Mr. Martin said, nodding. “There is a thief-taker who works in that area that I know. I’ll send word to him to see if he might be of assistance. Mr. Liddle. Mr. Harry Liddle. He will have heard any unsavory rumors floating in the area. He may look a little uncouth and sound it as well; however, you can trust him.”
“Thank you, Mr. Martin,” Lakehurst said.
