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Her admission might have just sabotaged the plan of using the Season to gather information to prove their abilities to Lord Rathbourne.
Aunt Euphemia leaned against the back of the settee, not maintaining the straight spine required of a lady’s sitting posture. “I see you’re wearing Annette’s necklace.”
Perdita’s head was spinning by the unexpected turns in conversation. Had the lady just accepted Perdita’s shocking disclosure that she had no plans to marry at the ripe age of twenty-two? She had prepared herself to hear the speech that there would be a fine gentleman who would change her mind. Miss Danvers and all the teachers droned on how a woman needed protection in society. They were incapable of managing without the guidance of a husband. No man was going to convince Perdita that she needed his protection. She had learned the hard way that she had to rely on herself. She was fortunate enough to have position and money and not to need to marry.
“Did Annette explain the significance of the necklace?”
Perdita fingered the large blue sapphire in its simple silver setting. “That all the French aristocrats were trying to save themselves but didn’t know who to confide in. The sapphire was a signal that the wearer could be trusted.”
“Friends and family betrayed each other to survive. Sapphires were worn since notes could be intercepted and fall into the wrong hands to be used as blackmail. Sapphires have always been a symbol of trust and loyalty.”
“My grandmere never liked to talk about her experiences escaping the Terror. She said it belonged in the past and no good came of remembering. She told me to always look to the future.”
“She was sparing you from what she suffered. She was a brave woman. After your grandfather and your uncle were killed, Annette fought to save your mother and herself and many women whose husbands and sons were murdered.”
The only time her grandmere had spoken of it was on her deathbed when she gave Perdita the necklace. But those words had inspired Perdita. The French had killed innocent people, including many of her family, and now they were planning to invade England. She wouldn’t allow any other women to struggle as her grandmother through war if she could help it.
“Tell me more about her. She liked to tell me stories about her childhood but never anything later.”
Totty’s face was mottled and her frizzy gray hair had fallen out of her cap as she scurried into the room. “Your ladyship, Lord Rathbourne has arrived to accompany you home.”
“Send my nephew away.” Aunt Euphemia batted her hand in the air. “He is wasting his precious time. I’m in no need of assistance to return to Rathbourne House.”
“If you were concerned about my time, you wouldn’t have left home.” Lord Rathbourne, a big-boned, black-haired man with severe features, hadn’t waited to be announced. Knowing he was head of Intelligence, Perdita doubted he waited on anyone. Except for the King. Lord Rathbourne was humorless and rigid, and if Perdita hadn’t a father who had mastered dark disapproving looks, she would be intimidated.
“Why are you the one to come for me?” Aunt Euphemia asked.
“Because I’m the only one in the family that can convince you to leave.”
“Do you mean to say command?”
“Command?” Lord Rathbourne barked a loud guffaw. “No one commands you to do anything.” His voice was filled with amusement and affection.
“Who ratted me out? It wasn’t Henrietta. She would never betray me. Is it Gwyneth? She’s got the glint in her eye that I never trust. And to think I paid her handsomely to keep my secret.”
Stunned by the banter between Lord Rathbourne and his aunt, Dita finally jumped from her seat to her duties. The reason for asking Lady Beaumont to sponsor her stood before her. “Lord Rathbourne, please won’t you join us for tea? Or would you prefer brandy?”
“Sit down, Cord. It is good for you to be out of your office. And knowing your habits, I can assume you haven’t eaten. Your health is in jeopardy.”
“You have no need to worry about my health.”
“Precisely. And neither do you need to waste your time worrying about mine. I’ve recovered from my fall. I need to join the world. I’m making plans to sponsor the lovely Lady Perdita.”
Lord Rathbourne’s eyebrow raised in question at Dita. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Perdita, but I must return to work immediately.” He glared at his aunt, who was unimpressed by his scowl and bent to butter a slice of toast.
“I understand. You bear great responsibility for England’s future.” Dita hesitated on how exactly to express her knowledge of the secretive role he played.
His thick brows formed a dramatic slash as his eyes narrowed on her face.
Dita hoped she didn’t flinch with his piercing look. “My brother has spoken of the demands your position places on you with the war.”
Roddy had said no such thing. It was fortunate he wasn’t present to hear her. She couldn’t admit she’d read her brother’s mail when he began to act secretive, having hushed conversations in the library, letters arriving at all hours of night. At the time, she thought he had returned to his dissolute life of gambling, racing, and women. Returning to the life that he and Dash had both pursued out of university. Her worry had been ill placed; Roddy was working with the government to develop a peace plan with France.
“Men of all stations have to work to ensure the safety of our nation.”
“I couldn’t agree more wholeheartedly, my lord. I believe women bear the same responsibility and shouldn’t be prevented from doing so.”
Aunt Euphemia snickered as she stood. Her eyes were vivid with amusement and canny intelligence. “I think we are going to have a very splendid time together, my dear. You’ll call on me in the next days.”
