Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [30]
Her gaze fell on yesterday’s newspaper while her maid dressed her hair. That story about Latham had preyed on her mind ever since she read it. There would be no ignoring that man’s presence in England now. It appeared that society would celebrate his every utterance and that his opinion would be sought at every turn. His role as moral philosopher would go unquestioned.
She snorted in derision so ungracefully that her maid’s hands paused. She gestured for the girl to continue.
Latham was a fraud. Those essays were laughable coming from his hand. He might play the role of a good man, but there was nothing to recommend his character. Unfortunately, he had a talent for hiding his true nature beneath charm and eloquence. Even his own family did not comprehend how base he was and how he lacked the slightest sympathy for others.
Except Castleford, she reminded herself. He had endeared himself to her with his harsh judgment of Latham. It was the first time she had ever met another person of gentility who saw Latham as she did. Everyone else, it seemed, remained happily ignorant.
She looked in the mirror at her maid’s handiwork. Then she averted her eyes so she would not meet her own gaze. Everyone remained ignorant because those who knew the truth never exposed him. He made sure that the only people who could denounce him were powerless to hurt him. He depended on their vulnerability making them confused and on their cowardice keeping them silent.
Of course, Castleford did not remain helpless or powerless. Yet, while he had broken with Latham, he had not exposed him.
They were relatives, of course, and two peas inhabiting the same extremely privileged pod. That probably accounted for it, and it made sense with the way the world worked. Still, realizing Castleford might have acted otherwise angered her. He might have spared some good people considerable grief.
She donned a discreet hat and accepted her gloves. She reached for her reticule and noted the newspaper again.
How much power would he have? How ambitious was he now? How many others who were vulnerable would he hurt? He really needed to be brought down. She would not mind being the agent of that.
While she was in London, she would learn what she could about the evidence of his sins and discover whether they were buried where she suspected. If she were clever enough, she might even learn a few things at this meeting today to aid her.
And if she succeeded, what then? She was not sure she was brave enough to reveal Latham’s true face to the world. Worse, she did not think there would be any way to expose him without exposing others too.
She would decide what to do if she ever faced the choice. She would weigh the costs to herself and others after this little quest amounted to more than a righteous ambition.
The servant at Castleford’s door this time lacked all that embroidery. Daphne assumed the captain of the guard had not taken his post yet. No normal house would have visitors at this ridiculously early hour.
Through the reception hall they went. Up the stairs where the Roman gods were up to no good on the ceiling. To her surprise, she was not led into the drawing rooms and back to that breezy chamber. Instead, the servant pivoted, crossed the landing, and continued up to the next level.
Most likely the duke had his study up here, near his apartment. He would have privacy then. She trusted that Mr. Edwards would be at his post. She would make sure Castleford did not find some pretext to send the young man away.
As she accompanied the servant, she girded her loins for battle. She would have to keep the duke on the topic at hand and not allow him to wander as he was wont to do when a word or observation distracted him hither and yon. Unless, of course, she led him yon through artful guidance.
She debated how to do that while she followed the wig to a set of doors. Her mind still contemplated the matter when he stood aside and ushered her in.
She froze. This was not a study. It was,