Chapter 30
Sir Jonathan Chatsworth was no stranger to London Society. He had grown up in it. As Sir Jonathan was not a young man anymore, he forwent most of the spring events that thinly veiled its marriage market. Instead, he depended on sources within the inner circles to keep him apprised of what was going on with Rebecca and Nathaniel St. Pierre.
So far, the man had been honorably courting Rebecca, but also without permission. Sir Jonathan and his set were old school enough to be annoyed at that, yet one would expect such behavior out of a rake of St. Pierre's reputation.
What came as a surprise was all the background whispering about the Fogg cousins. Where did the idea that they were betrothed come from? He shook his head, bewildered. A close friend in Parliament had come to him about the ribbing Fogg had been getting at his club over having lost Rebecca to a second son. Fogg had made his friend and the rest pay dearly for it at the card tables.
"Serves them right, subscribing to such rubbish," Chatsworth said aloud in his empty office.
Sitting at his desk late in the evening, Sir Jonathan went through all the materials he had concerning Isaac Jordan again. After that, he picked up another file, one that was exploding.
Through a presidium, he had subscribed to Rebecca's financial advice to see how that was faring. It was circulated under a male pen name and had cost dearly. Very interesting and useful information; the other subscribers had best enjoy it while they can.
Rebecca had sent what she was giving Jordan to him along with a separate report of things she was overhearing. There are some very loose-lipped men within the Queen's inner circle who were going to get visits from me when this was over. State security depended on better self-control. These men should know better than to speak of the Queen's itinerary and security protocols publicly.
Otherwise, the mission was working out well. His mole in Jordan's office kept him abreast of all the new entries into the Verne File. That had consisted mostly of Rebecca's very real earnings from the reports. Mr. Smith had also been trying to get access to a cache of files Jordan kept separate. It might include information on his background activities.
Chatsworth had told Mr. Smith to proceed carefully. It would not do for him to get caught. The clerk did not have a deceptive bone in his body. He would be Sir Jonathan's last choice for a field agent if there had been choices. As there weren't, he accepted his help thankfully. Mr. Smith had become a man on a holy mission, a credit to his profession.
Sir Jonathan left his offices with a light step. As his coach moved toward his house, he let the concerns of the day move aside for more pleasant thoughts. He had secured a marriage license and the services of the minister of the church his family had attended for generations. There will be a parlor ceremony at David's home tomorrow. It would be attended by only a few close family members, as Katrina's whereabouts were still kept quiet.
Katrina's landlady had packed her things and delivered them to Chatsworth's home. A lady's chamber had been set up in the room beside his own. Chatsworth had put his sister-in-law to its preparation after privately informing his older brother of the upcoming marriage. Dora had happily created a masterpiece at some expense, but she had declined to dress up the rest of the house, insisting its new mistress have the privilege. Dora had further promised a reception when the time was right.
Until then, Chatsworth was clearing his desk of cases he had to oversee personally. My second will take over when we leave for our wedding trip. With such relaxing, peaceful thoughts running through his head, he returned home, a contented, happy man.