‘I would hope that my fiancé would trust me,’ she said. ‘But if you would prefer, I could stand outside on the stairs and speak to him in public where everyone can see us.’
‘You shouldn’t speak to him at all,’ her mother warned.
Regina dismissed the thought, for her mother was only concerned about propriety. Her greater concern was about the threat against her father. If Camford knew anything at all, she had to see him. But in order to get past her mother’s doubts, she would have to redirect Arabella’s suspicions.
‘Had you thought that perhaps he brings news from Lachlan?’ she suggested. ‘I want to hear what he has to say.’ When her mother was about to protest further, she added, ‘If it makes you feel better, I will receive him in the kitchens, so Papa doesn’t know he’s here.’ She saw, from the look on her mother’s face, that this was the true reason for her discomfort.
‘He won’t know,’ she reassured her mother. ‘And Camford will not stay long, I promise you that.’ As another distraction, she said, ‘I think we should begin addressing the invitations, don’t you?’
Her mother’s expression wilted, and she sighed. ‘Ten minutes. Nothing more than that, and your father must not know that he’s here.’
‘Thank you, Mother.’ She reached out to squeeze Arabella’s hands. ‘Why don’t you go and see how Papa is feeling? I’ll join you soon.’
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of their town house, and Regina climbed out with the help of the coachman. Lord Camford nodded in greeting and tipped his hat to both of them. ‘Have you brought any news?’ she ventured.
‘I have.’ He smiled politely to the countess and said, ‘Good afternoon, Lady Havershire.’
The countess looked pained and simply said to Regina, ‘Ten minutes,’ before she ascended the stairs and spoke quietly to the footman.
‘Ten minutes?’ Camford repeated, his expression revealing his confusion.
‘Follow me, and we will speak in private,’ Regina said. She opened the door and touched a finger to her lips when she walked past the footman. ‘Papa mustn’t know you are here.’
‘Where are we going?’ he murmured, following her down the winding stairs towards the servants’ quarters.
‘To the kitchens. Just for a moment,’ she said. ‘I am allowed ten minutes to speak with you, no more. Let me send the servants away first.’ She guided him down a narrow hallway and then into a large kitchen. A huge wooden table rested in the centre of the room, and two of the kitchen maids gaped at her. Regina couldn’t remember the last time she had ever ventured into the kitchens.
‘Will you excuse us for a moment,’ she asked softly. When the cook eyed her hesitantly, Regina added, ‘You may return within a few minutes.’
No one moved at first, but the cook finally said to the kitchen maids, ‘You heard Lady Regina. Out! All of you.’
Only then, did they set aside their cooking utensils and scurry out the door. Regina waited a moment, and then glanced down the hallway to ensure that no one was eavesdropping. She leaned against the table and asked in a low voice, ‘What did you learn?’
Lord Camford drew closer, and murmured, ‘The Bow Street Runner believes that your blackmailer is likely female, from the handwriting. He waited at the lamp post the other night to see who arrived. It was a man, and he spoke to him. The man was hired to pick up a delivery, but he didn’t know what it was or for whom. The Runner gave him a package filled with blank paper, and he took it. He was discreet in following the man, but it was delivered to another address in Cheapside. Whoever it was is not a member of the nobility.’
Her heart sank, for it was possible that one of the servants, other than Frederick, had witnessed her shame. But who?
A sinking suspicion clenched her stomach as she wondered about her maid. Nell was Frederick’s granddaughter. He wouldn’t have told her anything, would he? She couldn’t imagine he would betray them like that. The young woman had only come into their employ within the past year, but Frederick had died two years ago. And if the notes had been sent over the past five years, she didn’t think it was possible that her maid would have anything to do with them. Moreover, she wasn’t entirely certain Nell knew how to read or write.
‘What should I do?’ she asked Camford.
His steady gaze met hers. ‘You don’t need to do anything. The Runner will watch the house and learn who it is. Then we will alert the authorities and have your blackmailer arrested. It will be over soon.’
He seemed convinced that it would be so, and she wanted to believe him. ‘Thank you, Camford.’
He gave a nod and then asked quietly, ‘How are you, Lady Regina? The last time I came to pay a call on you, your father ordered me out.’
She thought of lying and telling him that she was fine, but instead, she said, ‘I feel as if my life is a spinning wheel that won’t stop. My mother is making all the wedding plans, and my engagement ball will be soon. I ought to feel something about the wedding, but all I can feel is panic. I’m overwhelmed.’
‘Then don’t marry him,’ he said quietly.
She said nothing about the debt or their family obligation. Instead, she turned away from him. He didn’t understand that her life was not her own. She was being sold into marriage for her father’s sake, and Lachlan had agreed to leave her untouched. It was the best she could hope for. But being around Lord Camford unnerved her with unexpected feelings. Even looking into his eyes made her skin tighten, as if he had drawn his fingers over her skin.
‘I have to wed the laird,’ she insisted. ‘And though I am grateful for your help with this blackmailer, I cannot walk away from this marriage. It’s for the best,
