A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues #1) - Callie Hutton Page 0,34
someone with you at the time?”
“Yes, sir. I was accompanied by my betrothed at the time.”
“Betrothed? When did this happen, Huntington?”
Hunt shifted, not comfortable with the look Sir Phillip cast in his direction. “Actually, sir, Lady Diana and I became engaged at the house party.”
“Lady Diana Pemberton? Rockingham’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir. Is there a problem here?” He might as well face whatever the man’s concern was immediately.
He studied Hunt with a piercing look that reminded him of his tutors in school when he fell behind in his work. “Is she not the young lady who has barely escaped several scandals? Did she not retire to Italy for a year due to some debacle?”
Hunt being surprised by Sir Phillip’s knowledge of Diana’s escapades was utter foolishness on his part. No one did the sort of work the man did and directed others to do without knowing just about everything about everyone.
Hunt lowered his voice, trying hard to keep the anger in check at Sir Phillip’s words. If the man used the term Lady Trouble, Hunt might be driven to flatten him. “Lady Diana did spend about a year in Italy visiting her mother’s family.”
To Hunt’s relief, DuBois-Gifford waved it off and moved to his chair behind his desk. “I will need some documentation to connect Melrose to this movement.”
“What information have you already?” Hunt asked.
“About five years ago, a woman by the name of Miss Charlotte Wilson started an anarchist newsletter, humorously entitled Freedom. We have reason to believe she has more than enough followers to actually stage a good attempt to overthrow the government.”
Hunt blew out a low whistle.
“Miss Wilson has been favoring a violent revolution, and I’m afraid she has more than one man of high power on her side.”
“And the Home Office’s stance on this?” Hunt asked.
“Some are believers, some skeptics, claiming we are panicking for naught. However, the Crown is concerned and has asked me to delve into it further. That is why I need whatever paperwork Melrose might have. If we can get names, we have a good chance of quelling any revolution before it starts, and the resulting panic that would hit the general public.”
Hunt rose when DuBois-Gifford stood and offered his hand, his signal that the meeting was over. “I expect to hear from you as soon as you are able.”
“Yes, sir.” Hunt nodded and left the office. Deep in thought, he strode down the corridor and out the door. He waved his carriage forward and climbed in, grateful that the rain had temporarily subsided.
The ride home took longer than necessary because of traffic and wet streets. It gave Hunt time to consider the present state of his life. Betrothed to Diana. The annoyance that swelled up in him at DuBois-Gifford’s comments gave him pause.
Would he be defending Diana’s name for the rest of his life? Would he have to endure jokes and snide remarks in his clubs? What he really needed to examine was his easy acceptance of their forced betrothal and coming wedding.
He knew without a doubt that, at one time, he would have been horrified to find himself betrothed to Diana.
Although she had not yet agreed. But she was not a stupid woman and would come to realize if she wanted to maintain any standing in Society whatsoever, she must marry him.
Only months ago, he might have been tempted to challenge his honor and packed up and left the country rather than marry the woman, but things had changed. Oh, the portrait and seeing her in all her glory—he still wondered if the artist got it right—had certainly began his shift from ‘annoying-always-in-trouble-friend’, to thinking of her as a desirable woman who was witty, strong, and had a mind of her own.
All the things that were not on his list of qualities for potential brides.
She was also compassionate and caring. As he’d stated to her, she would be a wonderful mother. He enjoyed her company and found himself searching for her at every event and looking forward to holding her in his arms while they waltzed.
Was that love? Hardly. But he thought there was a possibility that they could have a strong marriage.
The rain had started up again by the time the carriage arrived at his house. Rather than wait for the driver to climb down with an umbrella, Hunt hopped from the carriage and took the steps two at a time to the front door.
“Where is Marcus?” Hunt asked as he shrugged out of his wet coat and handed it off