Page 82 of A Dilemma for the Duke

“Earl Fallsmith”

Murmurs of surprise and confusion filtered out from the doorway. Hastings’ face was drained of color.

She gazed intently at Rockford, her heart swelling with relief as she caught the unmistakable gleam of pride and passion in his eyes.

Rockford patted her hand. “Keep that letter safe, my love. We will hand deliver it to His Royal Highness.” He tried not to smile but was barely successful. He turned, but she held him back and whispered in his ear. “It’s Hastings. He’s the highwayman.”

Rockford searched her face. “How do you know?”.

“The fragrance. It’s lemon and smoke. And the letter. I hid it in the hollow of the tree where he captured me. The highwayman was the only other person who could have known where it was.”

He turned toward Hastings and stepped in front of Lora. “It seems the letter you intended to use against us contains a father’s genuine wish for his daughter’s happiness.”

“It is obvious that Earl Fallsmith is unaware of what you are. You see,” Hastings continued, his voice dripping with insinuation, “I’ve come across some rather… interesting information about France. Toulouse, to be exact. And Langley, Captain Edward Langley. It seems rather convenient how he disappeared without a trace during the Battle of Toulouse. He was the only man who was unaccounted for. It makes one wonder if perhaps there was a reason…a mutual understanding. You see, the man was a traitor to his country.”

Rockford’s eyes narrowed, a warning glint visible. “Be very careful with your words, Hastings. Accusations of that nature can be dangerous.”

Hastings smirked, sensing he had struck a nerve. He leaned in close for only Rockford to hear. “Oh, I’m not accusing you of anything, Your Grace. Just sharing some thoughts. After all, wouldn’t it be a scandal if people believed you had a hand in letting a traitor escape?”

Lora clenched her fists, trying to remain composed. She knew Rockford’s patience was wearing thin. The guests had a front-row seat and were whispering among themselves.

Rockford’s gaze was icy. “Langley’s disappearance was a matter of battlefield chaos, nothing more. But I supposesomeone like you, with your lack of military experience, wouldn’t understand the complexities of such a situation.”

“Perhaps,” Hastings replied, his smirk unwavering. “But rumors have a way of spreading, and who knows what people might start to believe?

Murmurs spread through the crowd, the atmosphere thick with speculation. Lora’s anxiety grew with every whisper.

Hastings continued, his tone shifting. “It is often said that beneath the surface of such grandeur.” He gestured around him. “Lies hidden truths. Truths that, once revealed, change our perceptions entirely.”

Rockford’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on Hastings. “You’ll face justice, Hastings. And this time, there will be no escaping it. You attempted to destroy lives for your own gain. It ends tonight.”

Hastings paused, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he took a few steps closer. “You think you’ve won? Even now, my reach extends beyond this insignificant town.”

“Your associates have been apprehended,” Rockford countered. “Your schemes are collapsing.”

Hastings’ expression flickered with irritation. A scuffle to Rockford’s right drew his attention. Marchand and Montague were being led out the terrace doors.

Hastings’ head whipped around to Rockford, and he feigned nonchalance. “We should go into your study. Away from prying eyes. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” His voice was smoother now, but there was something beneath it, an edge of desperation, of realization. “There is always room for negotiation.”

Rockford’s jaw tightened, but not from fear—his decision was clear. The plan was to expose Hastings to everyone. “Are you afraid of something?”

“I was simply thinking of…” Hastings glanced at Lora, his lips curling. “Delicate feelings.”

“I didn’t know you were so weak.” Lora scowled. “I did have my suspicions.”

Hastings’ face twisted. His eyes blazed dangerously as he clenched his fists at his side and took a menacing step forward. Rockford stepped in front of Lora and gently pushed her behind him.

“We’ll talk here.” Rockford’s tone left no room for discussion. “You’ve just opened a royal correspondence. You do know that is treason and punishable by death.”

The murmur of the crowd grew hushed as a man in a black coat and hat came through, his presence commanding attention. He was serious and direct, each step deliberate and unyielding. Thomas Greene was alongside him, their purpose clear in their stern expressions. The man’s eyes were sharp and piercing, scanning the room with a calculated intensity. The crowd parted instinctively, whispers quickly spreading like ripples in a pond.

“Who is with Mr. Greene?” Lora asked Rockford as she stared at the pair.

“Stay back, Lora. I don’t know what Hastings has planned.”

“We said together. Even my father agrees.” Her eyes were still focused on the man.

She tilted her head. “I’ve seen that man before, but I can’t place where.” Her mind raced through possibilities. London? A gala? A passing encounter? But something about him unsettled her, a sense of familiarity she couldn’t explain.

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