‘I shall begin this conversation,’ Maystone spoke firmly, ‘by first stating that it is necessary that I now inform both of you of the other’s involvement in certain matters of secrecy and delicacy to the Crown.’
Mariah was so stunned by Aubrey’s announcement that she instantly sank down weakly into one of the armchairs, before she even dared to look up and see that Wolfingham’s expression was one of equal shock—proof that he was just as stunned as she was at being so bluntly outed as an agent for the Crown, by the very man who acted as her—no, their?—spymaster?
Mariah was more than shocked; she was having great difficulty believing Aubrey Maystone’s announcement in regard to the haughtily disapproving and condescending Duke of Wolfingham.
The man Mariah knew society believed to be both sober and stern.
A man she personally knew to be arrogant and unpleasant, as well as insulting.
That same gentleman worked secretly, as she did, for the Crown?
It seemed barely possible it could be true, yet it must be so if Aubrey Maystone said that it was.
The puzzle was why Aubrey Maystone had now revealed something that had, in Mariah’s case, remained a secret to all but her daughter for seven years.
A sentiment, a confidence, that Wolfingham echoed, if the glittering green of his eyes was any indication. ‘What do you mean by talking so frankly, Maystone?’
‘Recent developments have made it necessary, Darian,’ the older man excused heavily as he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘And I also suggest that the two of you get over your shock as quickly as possible, so that we might then proceed.’
Darian was shocked by Maystone’s unexpected announcement, too much so to be able to hide the emotion.
And it was a knowledge, in regard to Mariah Beecham, that instantly posed a dozen other questions in Darian’s mind.
Such as how long had Mariah been engaged in such dangerous and secret work for the Crown?
And why had she?
When did she?
Where?
And how?
It was perhaps the answer to that last question that interested Darian the most.
For surely there was only one way in which a woman in society might go about gaining secret information?
‘It would seem, Aubrey, that Wolfingham is too busy drawing his own conclusions as to the methods I might utilise—flirtation, teasing, seduction—in order to be able to garner that information, to be able to proceed at the moment,’ Mariah drawled coldly, for once Wolfingham’s thoughts having been crystal clear to her. Unpleasantly so!
He scowled. ‘I was merely—’
‘I am well aware of what you were merely thinking, Wolfingham,’ she snapped disgustedly.
His jaw tightened. ‘Do not presume to know the thoughts in my head, madam—’
‘Enough,’ the older man interrupted wearily. ‘We do not have time for petty arguments this morning.’
Those green eyes turned as hard as the emeralds they resembled as Wolfingham turned his attention back to the other man. ‘Then perhaps you might state what it is we do need to talk about so urgently that you have deliberately chosen to put both myself and Lady Beecham in a position of personal vulnerability?’
‘Only to each other.’
‘Exactly!’ Wolfingham scowled darkly.
Maystone grimaced. ‘It was necessary, Darian.’
‘As I said, I would be interested to know why.’
‘Plots and treason, Wolfingham,’ Maystone stated emphatically.