Page 56 of One Night of Scandal
Thankfully, Grandmama had still been napping, because it would have taken far too long to explain what they were about. And why it was necessary for them to go to Bow Street. Together. Alone.
It was a good thing they’d already caused a scandal and were on their way to the altar.
The door opened, and Viola couldn’t quite believe who entered. Lord Orford greeted them with a firm nod.
“Good afternoon, Lady Viola.” He bowed to her, then turned to Jack, offering his hand. “Barrett.”
Jack gripped the man’s hand, but his expression was a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “I thought we were going to see a runner.”
“Not for this.” Orford sat down in a chair angled next to the short settee where Viola sat. “Would you mind taking a seat?” He looked at Jack and gestured next to Viola.
Frowning, Jack descended to the settee. She could feel the tension swirling in him.
“Why are you here?” Jack asked.
“It’s complicated. The clerk, Mr. Stafford, has asked that I speak with you. I apologize that it took so long for me to arrive.”
Jack studied him. “You were still at Westminster?”
“I was. I had to deal with a matter there regarding Mr. Caldwell.”
“He is part of the crime,” Jack said with disgust.
“I’ve been apprised of what happened with Lady Viola.” He looked toward Viola, and his gaze softened with sympathy. “I’m terribly sorry for the trauma they caused you.”
Jack sat forward, his mouth hard and his gaze sparking with fury. “Out with it, Orford. Why are you here, and what have you to do with informers and instigators and rumors of my involvement with the attack on the Prince Regent?”
“I shall try to explain as best I can, but there are aspects of this…situation that are extremely sensitive and cannot be disclosed.”
The foreboding Viola had felt intensified.
Orford looked to Jack. “You met Mr. Castle at the Spencean meeting?” When Jack nodded, he continued. “He is an informer, and I’m afraid he shared your presence at the meeting with Caldwell, whom I’d hoped would be an aid in this…situation. I unfortunately miscalculated Caldwell’s trustworthiness, as well as his honor.” He looked at both of them in apology.
Jack gaped at him. “The government has placed an informer in the Spencean Philanthropists—that’s madness.”
It was as if Orford hadn’t even heard him. “I’m sorry this happened. Caldwell had his own objectives that I was not privy to. He’d been looking for a way to get you expelled from your seat and sought to make it look as if you were somehow involved in the attack on the Prince.” He shook his head grimly. “Caldwell will no longer be occupying his seat, nor will Pennington or Sir Humphrey. They will not bother you in any way ever again.”
Jack narrowed his eyes at Orford. “Do you work for the Home Office?”
Orford didn’t respond, and his expression remained bland. To Viola, that seemed as much an admission as if he’d said yes. Especially given the conversations she’d had with him—as if he’d been trying to learn information about the rumor surrounding the attack. Perhaps he’d been doing so on behalf of the Home Office. She reached for Jack’s hand and found he was still tense.
He frowned at Orford. “I’m not sure I trust you—or whoever is in charge—to ensure that happens. If anyone threatens or harms my wife, I will not sit idly by.”
While she wasn’t yet his wife, the word thrilled her. She squeezed his hand and was grateful when he clasped hers in return.
“I fully understand your position. I would feel the same way.” Orford glanced toward Viola, and she thought she detected a hint of remorse. He returned his attention to Jack. “You’re a lucky man to have found such a bride. I offer you both my felicitations.”
“Thank you,” Viola said softly.
“And now I must ask that you keep all you have learned today completely confidential.”
Viola let go of Jack’s hand and sat forward. “We can’t say a word? I was going to write a story about this. People should know what is happening.”
Orford shook his head firmly. “You cannot. In exchange, Caldwell and his cohorts will not trouble you, and no one will ever know the identity of Mr. Tavistock. Though I do suggest he stop writing for theLadies’ Gazetteand perhaps relocate to a far-off corner of the country.”
“He already has,” Viola said with more than a little irritation as her dream of publishing an important news story slipped through her fingers.
“Excellent.” Orford stood abruptly. “I think we’re finished, then.”
