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The other man snorted. “He’d be better off dead than an orphan, don’t you think?”
Letty began to ease out of her hiding place, wanting to catch a glimpse of the men. She blinked a few times, thankful for the full moon that provided some light. All she could see, however, were two silhouettes. One stood hunched over, as though with age, while the other was upright but shorter. They man with the bent back clutched a cane in his hand, his feet planted wide apart as if to stop him from falling over.
One of them is an old man.
The shorter man stood with his arms folded, head down as if he was listening intently, but also submissive to the older man. There were no other distinguishing features, no unnaturally long hair, or protruding body parts, no accent save a certain upper-class cadence to their words. She certainly did not recognize them.
They could be anybody, including His Grace’s guests!
She wondered if she’d stumbled upon the Duke’s Third Man. The letter had said he needed to be persuaded of something. Perhaps he’d decided that rather than be coerced, he would betray the Duke.
“Twill complicate things if we take the boy as well. The potion I have obtained will make it seem as if he died of an illness. We don’t want too much of a fuss made of his death.”
“Don’t you think Wellington will suspect foul play?”
“Even if he did, he cannot say why without revealing that Thybaut was pivotal to his plans.”
“And he does not want those known.” The straight-backed man sounded as if he was smiling as he said it.
“Exactly.” He took in a deep breath. “Once Thybaut is out of the way, the first phase of the plan will be complete. After that, we will get rid of Wellington.”
Letty could hardly suppress her gasp at these revelations. She crept closer, intent on hearing everything.
“When should we do it?”
“Soon. Before he returns to the front lines.”
“How will we get the poison in the kitchen?”
The bent over man laughed. “There are plenty of footmen working for him. It would be the matter of a moment to pay one of them to do it.”
“Very well, I shall leave that in your capable hands.”
“You may tell McCraven that everything is proceeding as expected.”
“Very good, sir. I shall bid you goodnight then.”
The straight-backed man walked away slowly, heading not towards the house but in the opposite direction. The older, bent-over man set off slowly towards the house. Letty cursed at herself, regretting that she had not taken some time to get to know the neighborhood and who lived where.
In any case, there was no time to waste.
I have to go back.
She knew that returning to the Duke’s manor after her exposure meant that she would have to face him and his questions. She had to get him to trust her so that he would believe her when she told him his life was in danger. The fastest way to ensure that, was to tell the truth.
But if I tell him who I am, he will have me arrested for a spy and not listen to a word I say.
She bit her lip, thinking furiously. “What should I do?”
She hesitated for a moment longer, still crouching behind a row of shelves that were filled with shards of pots long broken as well as bits of leaves and flowers. Then getting to her feet, she began to make her way quietly towards the small gate which separated the two estates. She picked the lock and reentered the premises of Rose Manor.
Walking slowly and trying to think of a stratagem, she made her way to the house.
* * *
Bertram saw his guests off one by one until at last, he was left with a single gentleman.
“Thank you very much for coming. I hope your evening was not too uncomfortable.”
