The Debutante (The Sinclair Society Series, Book Two) Rough Draft

Chapter Sixteen

"I should have guessed. That explains why he wanted Jonathan's letters."

Of course, knowing the reason for Mr. Ingram's actions did not make me any less angry with him. If anything, my fury grew. "That churlish, doghearted...!" Even shakespearean insults—highly appropriate for the situation, I thought—failed to convey my opinion of the man. Perhaps Aunt Beth would have been able to provide the right words, and no doubt if I ever told her, she would enlighten me.

How Mr. Ingram must have laughed at me! He could not have failed to guess what had brought me to Bath and what I sought. I'd known he enjoyed manipulating people, but I hadn't realized just how much he'd been manipulating me.

"Clever, clever, clever," I said, glaring at the note. What better person than a master blackmailer to use for information? And the man clearly had no qualms about to whom he sold the information; Mr. Ingram had said he had to make a living at it. How much had his actions extended the war?

No one would have reported him, either, so he must have felt secure. Had any defied him, as I had done, he would have destroyed them. It was doubtful that any of his victims had ever escaped his grip. If he hadn't already revealed my secret to all of Bath society, I, at least, now had something that would keep me from his clutches.

There could be no doubt that he would not want this message, which he did not know I had a copy of, to ever be known. He would discover it was not so pleasant to be on the other side of the situation. While I knew it was not enough for me to blackmail him, it would keep him silent in return for my silence.

Is this what Mr. Harper had been warning about? Had he guessed Conrad Ingram knew something about me and I'd been working for him? Had he tried to strike a bargain with the man to learn my secret?

"He wouldn't be so dishonorable."

Despite everything, I just couldn't believe it of him. He may dislike me...or was it completely the opposite? After all, he had expressed his concern about my presence in Bath. Was it because he worried for my safety or because he was apprehensive about what I would discover?

"Why must he plague me so?"

Firmly, I put that line of thought from my mind. Instead, I focused on the second message. What would it tell me?

The numerals in the corner were different, a sign it was taken from a different poem or scene from one of Shakespeare's plays. I didn't recognize the number, so I set it aside to consider later.

It was then that I heard the sounds of the other women of the boarding house out in the hallway. Swiftly, I gathered the papers and put them back in my reticule. I pulled the chair from the door and unlocked it so that Mary Harrison could enter, which she did no more than five minutes later.

Part of me wondered what gossip I would hear at the table that night. The group had moved past their curiosity of me and enthusiastically shared the news of the day, none of which had anything to do with me.

One thing I did learn was that the Dunbar family had left Bath that morning with Rose Dunbar looking particularly ill and her older brother moving with slow deliberate moves. Nothing else of any interest was shared, though, and my mind constantly went back to the undeciphered message that waited for me.

However, I had no time alone to turn my attention to that message that night and I knew in the morning I had something I could not avoid.

~*~

The following morning, I dressed with care in a pale blue walking dress and matching pelisse. I spent more time arranging my hair than on any other morning. After all, whenever a lady made a visit, she ought to look her best.