After they left and handed off their purchases to their driver, they climbed inside the carriage. However, they’d only traveled a short distance before Mara said, “I thought I might pop in and see an old friend if that’s agreeable?”
Lyra nodded her assent. “Of course.” They arrived shortly in front of a familiar building on Cheshire Street.
While she’d never properly met Celeste, a former Madame for some of society’s most elite, Lyra had heard of her. With a bit of help from Mara and the generosity of the Countess of Rockford, she had been able to turn her life around and take over ownership of Mara’s haberdashery after she’d married Roarke. The way Mara talked, business was just as profitable as ever and no one even suspected Celeste’s former “profession.” Naturally, she went by an assumed name now.
A little bell above the shop tinkled as they walked in. Mara sighed nostalgically. “I miss that sound some days.”
A respectable, unassuming woman with black hair glanced up and nodded a greeting before turning back to her customer. A handful of other ladies were milling about, inspecting ribbons and fripperies and talking amongst themselves, so Mara and Lyra did the same.
After a time, Celeste came over to them. “It’s good to see you.” She embraced Mara. “I’m glad you came by today. I was actually going to send you a note later. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” Mara returned with a smile.
Celeste gestured to an older lady who had just appeared from the back room. “Pansy, do you mind watching the shop?”
The woman in question trudged forward, and while she appeared annoyed at the request, she was perfectly polite to the next lady who came up to the counter with her purchases.
“I see not much has changed,” Mara gestured to Pansy.
Celeste rolled her eyes at her long time companion. “As you can see, she’s just as charming as ever.”
Lyra, feeling a bit like a third wheel, began to turn away. “I’ll wait here for you, Mara.”
Instantly, Celeste’s brow creased. “I’m afraid you misunderstand, Your Grace. What I have to say concerns you most of all.”
* * *
After a brief inquest that included Lord Liverpool, Drayven, and a handful of other important men in Parliament, the charges against Alister and Lyra regarding Richard’s demise had been dropped for lack of evidence. In the end, they all congratulated him on his recent nuptials before the subject turned to how to put an end to the radical group known as‘The Cause.’
Since Prinny was concerned for his father’s failing health and didn’t wish for any disruption during the holiday season, they were forced to cool their heels for a few more days before they had the opportunity to investigate the secret tunnels beneath Carlton House. If the mysterious plans were accurate, any passages would be sealed off, thus neutralizing a threat that might take place inside the palace. Until then, security had been enhanced, albeit discreetly.
“I think we should bring in Richard’s widow for questioning,” Drayven noted, causing a few of the men to murmur their agreement.
As suspected, Lord Winthorp was the only one to speak up with a rejoinder. “Surely after such a tragic event, the woman could be of no assistance. She certainly wouldn’t be thinking clearly.”
It was the moment Alister had been waiting for.
“I thought you might come to her defense, my lord,” Alister said evenly. Standing, he took a paper out of his pocket and handed it to Lord Liverpool. “You might want to read that, sir. In it, you will find evidence of treasonous activities involving the very gentleman in question.”
The viscount shifted uncertainly in his chair. “That’s ridiculous! You don’t have anything that can prove—”
“On the contrary.” Alister held up a finger. “That is a signed confession from your wife. Lady Winthorp was more than happy to relay some very interesting information after she found out about your…shall we say, extracurricular activities?” He shook his head. “Really, Winthrop, you should have been more circumspect in your amorous pursuits of Lady Weston…”
“You bastard!” Lord Winthorp stood, his face turning a rather alarming shade of purple as he shook with rage. “Don’t you know that this country is on a course with disaster? Once Prinny takes the throne, nothing will save England from ruin!”
“Indeed?” Alister shrugged. “Then I suppose those loyal to the Crown will just have to take that chance.”
As two soldiers entered the room, Lord Winthorp blanched. Only then did he realize that he’d effectively tied his own noose.
Lord Liverpool instructed, “Take this vermin to the Tower and make sure he tells you everything he knows, by any means necessary, if that’s what it takes.”
“But I’m a peer of the realm!” Lord Winthrop sputtered. “I have rights by law—”
“Not anymore,” the Prime Minister said grimly, as the man was led away in irons.
As the rest of the men began to disperse, stunned at this turn of events, only Lord Liverpool, Alister, and Lord Sussex remained.
Once they were alone, Lord Liverpool turned to Alister. “I wondered why you’d handed me your tailor bill. Very nicely done, Your Grace.”
