Proof indeed that he had more than earned his place as being thought of as one of the five Dangerous Dukes.
‘If we could return to the more immediate problem of this plot to assassinate the Regent?’ Lord Maystone prompted drily as he obviously saw this silent battle of wills between Mariah and Wolfingham.
Mariah found it hard to breathe, let alone break away from that glittering green gaze, feeling as if she were a butterfly stuck on the end of a pin and with no way of escape.
She began to breathe again only when Darian Hunter, after giving her a hard and mocking smile, turned his attention back to Aubrey Maystone.
‘I am presuming that your own private secretary’s involvement with Rousseau will also have exposed the names of the network of people who work for you?’ Wolfingham prompted astutely.
Mariah’s eyes widened in alarm as she saw the truth of that statement in the heavy mantle of responsibility that instantly settled on Aubrey Maystone’s slumped and aged shoulders.
‘Almost all.’ The older man nodded. ‘We had our first inkling of that exposure, of course, when Rousseau revealed to Georgianna Lancaster that he knew of Hawksmere’s work for the Crown.’
Darian nodded grimly, that information having meant that Hawksmere could no longer play an active role in Maystone’s network of spies. Perhaps it was as well, now that Hawksmere was a married man, but even so…
‘I am also presuming, as you wished to speak with both of us this morning, that perhaps Lady Beecham and myself have so far not been exposed?’
‘That is so, yes,’ Maystone confirmed tightly. ‘I do not keep written records of my agents, as you know, but of the twelve in my network, only the two of you have never had reason to call at the Foreign Office or my home.’
‘And would not the fact that you have chosen to call at the countess’s home this morning have succeeded in alerting any now watching you to the possibility that she—’
‘I am not completely without the resource of stealth myself, Wolfingham,’ the older man snapped impatiently. ‘I left my home by the servants’ entrance, hired a hackney cab to bring me to within two streets of this house and walked the rest of the way. All whilst keeping watch for any who might be taking any undue interest in my movements.’
‘I apologise.’ Darian gave a rueful inclination of his head.
‘Apology accepted.’ Maystone nodded briskly. ‘Could we now return to the subject of these assassins and their infernal plots?’
Darian sank back into his armchair. ‘I presume you are now about to tell us what part you expect the two of us to play in foiling this plot?’
Mariah had been aware of the sharpness and acuity of Wolfingham’s intelligence, but she had also learnt a wary respect for his astuteness these past few minutes as the two gentlemen talked and knew, by the irritation in Aubrey Maystone’s face, that the Duke’s words had once again hit their mark.
‘What could the two of us possibly do that you have not already done yourself?’ she prompted guardedly; positively the last thing she wished for was to spend any more time in Darian Hunter’s company than she needed to.
Aubrey Maystone seemed completely unaware of her reservations as his next words instantly trampled that wish. ‘Mariah has already told me that she has accepted her invitation to go to Lord and Lady Nicholses’ house party in Kent this weekend. I now wish for you to accompany her, Wolfingham.’
‘But—’
‘I am aware it is not your usual choice of entertainment, Wolfingham,’ the older man acknowledged drily. ‘But in this instance it is too dangerous for Mariah to attend alone.’
‘Then why attend at all?’ she questioned sharply, her heart having leapt in alarm just at the thought of spending a weekend in the company of the judgemental Darian Hunter. He despised her utterly already, enjoyed thinking the worst of her, without the added humiliation of knowing he was watching her with those cold green eyes as she moved about flirtatiously at one of Clara Nichols’s licentious weekend house parties. ‘It will be no hardship to me to send my apologies to Clara Nichols.’
‘That is the last thing I wish you to do, my dear,’ Aubrey Maystone assured gently, before launching into an explanation of exactly why the two of them must attend the Nicholses’ house party together.
*
‘And to think that you once told me that such things as politics and intrigue bored you,’ Wolfingham drawled mockingly.
Lord Maystone, having stated his business, had now departed as abruptly as he had arrived, after stating that he would now leave the two of them alone together, so that they might discuss and consider his request, before giving him their answer later on today.
A request, as far as Mariah was concerned, that was so outrageous as to be unthinkable.
And yet…
She had never said no to anything that Aubrey Maystone had asked of her in the past and she could not bear to think of doing so now, either.
Except for the fact that this time it involved Wolfingham, a man she had serious reason to be wary of.
Her gaze flickered across to where Wolfingham now lounged in the armchair opposite her own, both the pot of tea and the decanter of brandy now empty, after almost an hour of intense discussion. ‘I believe you also allowed me to continue to think that you came by your bullet wound by engaging in a duel rather than disposing of André Rousseau?’