This was not a road Richard wanted to walk down, but it seemed he must. “Patricia Paisley, but I have no idea if it’s her real name.” He sighed heavily. “I met her when we left Eton. Eighteen and free of that damned school. My uncle continued to manage estate affairs sufficiently, and I wasn’t ready to head home and wear the mantle of my role, nor would I have been allowed to fully do so had I been so inclined. I came to London instead.”
Those years seemed so long ago. A lifetime. He’d been reeling from the death of his mother. She’d been all he’d had throughout the years. Her brother, Richard’s official guardian alongside his mother, had had his own business to attend to and, therefore, administered Thornwood Manor from a distance. His mother and their steward, Bosley, had been exceedingly capable on their own.
Richard had never really known his father, the man having died when Richard was five. As such, he’d been schooled to be responsible to the title, and he’d accepted it without question. So it was not a shirking of responsibility. He’d not wanted to return to the empty manor house. Eton had provided no comfort, even in those months after his mother’s death. It had been oppressive, and some of the masters harsh. If he’d not had friends like Walford and Bentley, he’d have been truly miserable. They’d taught him to laugh, at least a little.
“You went back to hearth and home, but I ran from mine.” Richard decided he might as well share the entire story. Last summer, Walford had trusted him with his own secrets. Richard must now entrust his own private tale.
“I met Patricia at a soiree. A decadent…” Richard hesitated, then forged forward. “A salacious and illicit gathering. The bawdy houses had lent some of their girls to enhance the evening. She sat with me, and one thing led to another, and we were in a back room. In retrospect, I believe she worked hard to catch my attention. And catch it she did. Pleasures of the flesh are addictive at that age, but I could not see myself frequenting a brothel to see her. So I put her up in a set of rooms. She was truly lovely, and we enjoyed many nights together.
“Two years later I saw Elizabeth on the other side of a ballroom, and I knew she was mine. I left and immediately broke it off with Patricia. I wanted nothing to taint my chances. I didn’t meet Elizabeth officially until weeks later. I’ve not seen Patricia since, until…” Richard thrust his chin toward the paper sitting on Walford’s lap.
“So she turns up out of the blue after…?”
“Almost ten years,” Richard provided.
“After ten years,” Walford repeated, his brow crinkling. “To what end?”
“Money. This was offered as proof she truly has secrets to offer. She said future installments would cost.”
Walford whistled out a long breath. “A spy. Or knows one. One who wants to profit from what they know instead of assisting the war effort.”
“So it would seem.”
They both fell silent as the footman returned with Richard’s brandy. He swirled the dark liquid and inhaled deeply, but he did not take a sip. “But why share with me? I have no great position in politics. No military connections.”
Walford raised that imperial eyebrow again.
“Well, except you, of course. But you weren’t around when I was with Patricia, so she’d not know about you.”
“I would hazard to guess she had no one else to turn to. Or she trusts you. Liaisons can create strong bonds, and I assume you left her kindly.”
“I did. And with substantial coin. Although, she did not look the better for it when I saw her.”
“It is not an easy life, and if one does not manage it well, money can sift through hands quickly.” Walford pressed his fingertips together and stared at Richard. “But there are plenty of better-connected men with coin, so that cannot be the reason. Two years is a lot of time with a man. Enough time to weigh his integrity and his loyalty. Many a gentleman would easily turn from sullying their hands with such subversive activities. She must think you won’t.” Walford picked up the paper. “If this is verified, howdoyou feel about gathering more information?”
Richard finally took a drink, letting the warmth fire his body, as he contemplated his response. He’d been wrestling with that very question since Patricia had slipped the paper into his hands. “How are we doing on the continent? The reports have been vague.”
Walford shrugged. “It’s difficult to know from the outside, but from what I hear, there have been some serious setbacks. Lives lost. Plans diverted. I’ll not pretend insider information is not of great assistance in decisions. I know Wellesley is very receptive to vetted intelligence reports.”
Richard took another sip. “Find out if there is truth in her missive, and I’ll consider my choices.”
“Will do,” Walford said. “I’ll head over to the Home Office directly.” He stood. “Catherine is hosting a small fete this evening. She’s making the most of her stay in London and enjoying making me squirm with all her plans.” He laughed, unashamedly content with his wife’s maneuverings. “Please join us.” He thrust out a hand, and Richard shook it. “I’ll share what I find out,” he added more seriously.
Richard nodded and watched Walford stride from the room. He tossed back the remainder of his brandy.Hell and the devil confound it.It was bad enough he had to sort through this intrigue; now he must spend another evening in Elizabeth’s company. He knew the latter was going to be the more difficult to endure.