A lady of Resilience

Chapter 13: Threads of Deception

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The unexpected visitor loomed like an ominous cloud over the morning. Ashford and Seraphina shared a glance, their eyes narrowing with silent understanding. It was too early for any of Madame Chastain's contacts to have followed through, and neither of them had anticipated an interruption so soon after their clandestine dealings.

Ashford's expression hardened. "Who is it?"

The servant, a young man with a nervous demeanor, shifted his weight uneasily. "He didn't give a name, my lord. But he insisted that it concerns urgent matters... regarding your safety."

Ashford's eyes flickered with suspicion, and Seraphina's heart sped up. Every fiber of her being told her this could be another move from Montrose, though it was far too soon for him to act so overtly. The man was careful, calculating—unless, of course, he was trying to throw them off balance.

"Bring him to the front parlor," Ashford ordered, his voice tense but composed.

The servant gave a quick nod and scurried out of the room, leaving the two of them alone once more.

Seraphina stood, smoothing the folds of her gown in an attempt to calm her nerves. "Do you think it's one of Montrose's men?"

Ashford frowned, his gaze locked on the door the servant had disappeared through. "Possibly. Or it could be a warning. Someone working for him who doesn't agree with his methods."

Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line. "Or it could be a trap."

Ashford nodded grimly. "We'll find out soon enough."

They moved to the front parlor, the air in the room thick with tension. Seraphina's heart pounded in her chest, her mind already racing with possibilities. Whoever this visitor was, they had to be prepared for anything. She could feel the weight of the pistol she had discreetly tucked beneath the folds of her skirt, a small but necessary precaution in light of recent events.

As they entered the parlor, the man in question stood by the window, his back turned to them. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his stance military in its precision. When he heard their footsteps, he turned, revealing a face marked by deep lines and weathered by time. His eyes were sharp, like a man who had seen too much of the world's darkness.

"Lord Ashford," the man greeted, his voice low and gravelly. "Lady Bellamy."

The use of her title immediately put Seraphina on guard. This man knew who they were, and that could only mean he had come with a purpose beyond delivering a simple message.

Ashford crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "You know who we are. But you haven't given us the courtesy of introducing yourself."

The man smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "I didn't think I needed to. I represent certain... interests. And I have a proposition for you."

Seraphina's gaze sharpened. "What kind of interests?"

"Let's just say that we share a common enemy," the man replied, his tone casual. "Elias Montrose."

At the mention of Montrose's name, Seraphina felt a chill run down her spine. Ashford, too, stiffened, though his voice remained calm.

"And what do these interests want with us?"

The man's eyes flicked between them, assessing. "Montrose has overstepped his bounds. He's become reckless, driven by greed and ambition. There are those who once supported him, but they've grown wary of his methods. They believe he's too dangerous to continue unchecked. And that's where you come in."

Seraphina exchanged a quick glance with Ashford. The idea of Montrose's allies turning against him was unexpected, but it also made sense. A man like Montrose would inspire loyalty only as long as it served the interests of those around him. Once he became a liability, those loyalties would quickly dissolve.

"And what exactly do you expect us to do?" Ashford asked cautiously.

The man took a step forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "We want you to continue your efforts against Montrose. But you won't be alone. My employers have resources—information, contacts, funds—that can help you bring him down. In exchange, they want assurance that Montrose is permanently removed from the playing field."

Seraphina's mind raced. This man—whoever he worked for—was offering them a lifeline. But she knew better than to trust someone who operated in the shadows, especially one who claimed to have such powerful backers.

"And why should we trust you?" Seraphina asked, her tone sharp.

The man's gaze settled on her, his smile fading. "You don't have to trust me. But ask yourselves this—can you afford not to? Montrose has made it clear that he will stop at nothing to destroy you, Lord Ashford. He won't hesitate to ruin your name, your family, your life. And Lady Bellamy, you've already been drawn into this mess. You're a target now as well. Whether you like it or not, Montrose has marked you both. This is your chance to strike first."

Ashford's jaw tightened, and Seraphina could see the conflict in his eyes. The offer was tempting—dangerously so. But they had already made a deal with Madame Chastain, and adding more players to the game would only complicate things further.

"What's the catch?" Ashford asked, his voice cold.

The man's smile returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "No catch, Lord Ashford. We simply want Montrose gone. Permanently. Once he's out of the picture, my employers will withdraw, and you can go back to your lives. Consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Seraphina's instincts screamed at her that there was more to this than the man was letting on. No one offered something like this without expecting something in return. But she also knew that they couldn't afford to ignore any potential advantage in the fight against Montrose.

Before she could speak, Ashford straightened, his expression hardening. "We'll consider your offer. But we make no promises."

The man nodded, seemingly unfazed. "That's all I ask. I'll be in touch."

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving the room filled with a heavy silence.

Seraphina turned to Ashford, her brow furrowed. "What do you think?"

Ashford let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "I think we just stepped into a deeper game than we realized."

Seraphina nodded in agreement, her mind still racing with the implications of the visitor's offer. "Do you think he was telling the truth? That Montrose's own allies are turning on him?"

"It's possible," Ashford replied, his voice thoughtful. "But that doesn't mean we can trust them. If anything, it makes them more dangerous. They're willing to sacrifice Montrose to protect their own interests, which means they won't hesitate to do the same to us if it suits them."

Seraphina crossed her arms, her expression grim. "We need to be careful. If we accept their help, we could be walking into a trap. But if we refuse, we might be throwing away our only chance to stop Montrose."

Ashford met her gaze, a steely determination in his eyes. "We'll proceed with caution. We've made deals with dangerous people before, but we can't afford to let them dictate our next moves. We'll take what we can from them, but we won't rely on anyone but ourselves."

Seraphina nodded, though a sense of foreboding still lingered in her chest. They were treading on dangerous ground, and every step they took brought them closer to the edge. Montrose was a formidable enemy, but now it seemed that even his own allies were sharpening their knives.

The question was: Who would strike first?