Chapter 169

Just as the steward reached for the door handle, he appeared to reconsider, pausing with his hand suspended above it. "Perhaps it would be best if I informed Mr. Dawson of your presence first. Would you mind waiting while I make him aware of your arrival?"

Sebastian regarded the man with suspicion, wondering what had prompted the sudden change of mind. Nevertheless, he reluctantly agreed. Ambushing Dawson with an unexpected visit would hardly work in their favour, particularly when they were hoping to secure his assistance. If they stood any chance of persuading the man to help them, they would have to approach the matter carefully rather than risk putting him on the defensive from the outset.

***

"Mr Dawson, you have a visitor."

Adam turned his head to see the steward standing by his open door.

"Who? Is it my wife?" Adam asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

"An acquaintance, he says." Replied the steward.

"I have no acquaintances who visit me here, you know this."

"Nevertheless, he has come to see you. He is waiting outside. The gentleman has assured me that his business with you is important."

"Important to whom?"

The steward offered no reply. Instead, he stepped out of the room and returned with two male attendants, instructing them to escort Adam to the courtyard, where the visitor was waiting.

Adam protested that he had not agreed to any such arrangement, but the man remained firm, insisting that the fresh air might do him good and that there was no reason to turn away the visit.

It was a poor argument, and they both knew it.

Still, Adam was tired of having every decision made for him. If this stranger possessed some business with him, he wanted to know what it was and have it over with as quickly as possible. Perhaps then he could put an end to the matter and return to the solitude he understood.

He allowed the attendants to help him dress and settle into an invalid chair. The transfer required patience and careful handling, especially when his legs shifted in a way that aggravated the old injuries. He kept his irritation to himself while the attendants adjusted his position and made certain he was comfortable enough to be moved.

The journey along the corridor and through the rear entrance was short. Beyond the main infirmary building stood an enclosed garden, sheltered by high walls and shaded by several mature trees.

A gravel path wound between beds of late-season flowers, and a few wooden benches had been placed where patients could sit outdoors when the weather permitted. The afternoon was pleasant, with a light breeze stirring the leaves overhead.

Adam was settled down by one of the benches. The steward exchanged a few words with the attendants before retreating back into the building, leaving there with no way of getting back on his own.

The stranger waiting nearby was dressed in a dark coat, with a hat in his hand and a presence that immediately raised Adam’s hackles.

He was neither particularly old nor young, and there was nothing in his appearance that would distinguish him from the many gentlemen he met in the past.

Yet he looked directly at Adam now, as though he had a good reason for coming and would not leave without being heard.

"Are you Mr Dawson?" He asked.

The man sounded polite but Adam didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust people with hidden motives.

"I am." He gave the man a head-to-toe appraisal. "What do you want?"

The stranger inclined his head. "My name is Sebastian River. I have come because there is someone who wishes to speak with you about the disaster at Ashford’s mines. The one that damaged your legs."

Adam’s shoulders stiffened. When he spoke next, his tone was considerably harsher.

"Who wishes to speak with me?"

"Someone who believes you have been denied justice."

Adam gave a short, humourless laugh. "And you expect me to believe that a stranger has come all this way because this person is concerned about justice for a miner?"

"No," Sebastian answered. "You are right to be skeptical. You have no reason to trust me, and I would not force you to do so."

"Then tell me who sent you."

"I am here on behalf of the Duchess. She wishes to speak with you herself. She believes there is a way to bring the man responsible to justice, but she needs to discuss certain matters with you before anything else."

"The Duchess?" Adam repeated, incredulous. "I see no reason why the duchess should have any business with me."

"That is something she would prefer to clarify herself."

Adam glanced behind him. The steward and attendants were nowhere in sight anymore. With no way to leave, Adam was now essentially trapped at the mercy of this stranger and he didn’t like it one bit. He made sure to make his displeasure known.

"What do you even want from me? It has been ten years already."

"I expect you to hear what she has to say. Whether you agree to anything afterward is your decision."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we will respect your decision and leave you in peace."

Sebastian delivered the answer without hesitation.

Adam studied him, searching for the concealed threat that ought to accompany such an offer. He found none, though it didn’t set him at ease.

"Very well," he said reluctantly. "I will hear what she has to say. But I make no promises beyond that."

"Nor would I expect you to." Sebastian said. "Excuse me for a moment while I go and fetch her."

When he returned, he did so with a blonde woman in tow. She was richly dressed, though not ostentatiously so, and her gaze was keen and intelligent.

She stopped before his chair and regarded him with a seriousness that made him straighten instinctively.

"Mr Dawson, is it?"

"Yes. That’s right."

"My name is Cassandra Montague, Duchess of Norham." She inclined her head. "I am glad we have finally been able to meet."

While others might have simpered and fawned over her and her newly acquired title, Adam merely stared at her with a blank expression.

"I cannot imagine what a lady of your standing would want with me, Your Grace."