“Yes, indeed. It is such a fine evening, is it not?” Grandmama put a hand on her father’s shoulder as he went to rise from his chair. “Shall we allow the couple to have a moment alone, Frederick?”
“Very well.” He looked resigned but settled back in his chair.
The rear garden was not large, but it was well-designed to create interesting spaces to wander about in. Hedges framed asmall fountain where water flowed from a Grecian maiden’s urn into a pool, hiding the terrace from view.
Diana’s nerves were raw. “How do you feel the war is progressing, Lord Montgomery?” she asked, her shaky voice betraying her.
“Let us not talk about war on a night like this.” He stepped closer and gazed down at her, his expression unreadable in the flickering light of a brazier. “Dare I hope you have softened your view of marriage, Lady Diana? And of me?”
She stepped back closer to the hedge. “I hoped you might have changed your views,” she said. “You said that you would treat me like your…”
Lord Montgomery moved close again, and his hands bit hard into her shoulders while he forced his mouth against hers to stifle any chance at speech. She felt a sharp pain on her breast. Diana, shocked, wriggled back to elude him. But he held her fast while whispering in her ear. “I shan’t fall for your tricks, Lady Diana. I urge you to behave yourself or you will suffer the consequences once you become Lady Montgomery.”
Diana struggled free and hurried around the hedge. But the terrace where she’d expected to find Papa was empty.
Diana saw concern in Grandmama’s eyes when she entered the drawing room. Flustered, her face hot, she could say or do nothing to criticize Lord Montgomery, who, looking jovial, fulsomely praised the gardens.
After a game of whist, her father and Lord Montgomery departed into the night, leaving Diana to explain what had occurred. “Lord Montgomery guessed what I was about. He kissed me to quieten me. It was horrible.” She scrubbed her mouth again with her handkerchief and shuddered. “Papa didn’t hear any of it, did he?”
Grandmama shook her head, looking rueful. “Your father complained it was too cool and retreated inside. Other thantackling him, I could do nothing.” She paused. “Next time, I could trip up Lord Montgomery. I should have better success with that.”
Diana giggled. “We’ll just have to think up another strategy, Grandmama.” She stared into space. “Perhaps I could run away.” She knew trying to escape was futile, but she must act!
“Over my dead body,” Grandmama said forcefully. “And you must promise me when God takes me, you willneverconsider doing such a thing. Running away is cowardly. There are ways to make a life for yourself, even within a marriage.”
Grandmama was trying to console her, but she only made her feel worse. Diana sighed. “I suppose so, Grandmama.” She trudged up the stairs, trying not to think of Lord Montgomery’s forceful, revolting mouth on hers and how he’d taken the opportunity to pinch her hard on the breast.
*
Damian left hisMayfair house after breakfast the next morning, having managed only two hours of sleep. During the journey back to London, he’d felt raw but grimly determined. He would swear Montgomery was more than just a French sympathizer; he was a spy involved in stealing specific information relating to Wellesley’s next campaign. And the only Englishman he’d seen out in the garden that night had been Montgomery. As well as the Frenchman Charles Moreau, who had apparently gone missing since, he’d been informed by Scovell. It became imperative that Damian find that proof and hopefully locate the other missing document.
Scovell was already at his desk in his office at Horse Guards. He looked up from writing when Damian entered. “A mission well accomplished, Ballantine! I received a glowing report fromHalcrow.” He put down his quill and gestured to a chair with a warm smile. “You are due for a well-earned rest.”
“Not until I’ve got Montgomery.” Damian sat back and crossed his legs. “Have your men discovered anything?”
His spymaster raised his eyebrows. “I gather you haven’t seen the newspapers?”
Damian shook his head. “Not yet. Why?”
“Lord Montgomery and Lady Diana Stafford’s wedding is to take place at the duke’s estate in a sennight.”
Damian cursed under his breath. “What unseemly haste. What does Montgomery fear?”
Scovell’s intelligent eyes studied Damian’s face. “A surprising overreaction. You have more than a casual interest in the lady?”
“Is Montgomery still followed?”
Scovell shook his head. “He’s about to marry a duke’s daughter. We can’t pursue it until we have proof. And we are short of men. They have far more important tasks to occupy them.”
“Then I shall take it over.”Montgomery will consider himself safe now. He might grow careless.
“If you wish. It is on your own time, after all.”
Damian stood, fighting frustration and anger. “And if I discover he carries his affection for Bonaparte further than any decent Englishman should?”
“I doubt he’d have that document. He’d have passed it on like a hot potato, unless something has held things up. Moreau has made himself scarce, so it’s possible he was meant to be the courier. If you find Montgomery is involved, deal with him,” Scovell said bluntly. “But be discreet. I don’t want to hear about it until I read it in the newspapers.”
Damian began his pursuit of Montgomery by first visiting his club, Brooks’s, on St. James’s Street. He spoke to a waiter whom he’d paid for information in the past and discovered that everynight Montgomery spent at the club dining and gambling, he always left at ten o’clock.