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Authors: Madeline Hunter

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“Lord Hayden said he attempted to sell out a company called Four Corners while you were away on your self-indulgent adventures. It had made no payments for over a year, and the company's solicitors did not respond to his queries for accountings. He gave me what
he could about it. All the facts are on the table in your sitting room, near that chair you use.”

Christian examined the cravat in the looking glass. “Self-indulgent adventures, Miller?”

“Lord Hayden's words, sir. You commanded that I tell you exactly what your brother said.”

“Did my brother say whether I still have a partnership in this company?”

“Lord Hayden says it is not clear. His exact words again. There has been no income or correspondence since before your father's death. Lord Hayden said he long ago assumed the partnership had been dissolved.”

A fair assumption on Hayden's part. A wrong one, however. The other facts were unassailable. Hayden never forgot numbers. If he said there had been no income, that was how it had been.

“Do you want me with you when you talk to Mr. Winterside?”

“That will not be necessary. He will follow the path that benefits him and his employer. I only need to explain which path does. However, when you are at Miss Montgomery's house tonight, be very alert. If Winterside decides to cover two bets after he leaves here today, there may be trouble.”

It was past midnight when Christian rode his horse to Bury Street. As expected, Mr. Winterside had proven shrewd and pliable. He expressed honest dismay on hearing the danger in which Leona had been placed. He was adamant that his only interest lay in sparing the
Company from embarrassment. It had not been difficult to convince him of the best way to do that.

One of Christian's footmen opened the door to Leona's house, but Miller was in the reception hall. Arms crossed and back resting on the wall, he sat on a bench near the bottom of the stairs that led up to the next level.

He stood when Christian entered. “Everything is quiet,” he reported. “I check the house every half hour.”

“Any new cigar ashes across the way?”

“Not for over a week now.”

“Where is Tong Wei?”

“Last I saw, he was in the library. He sits on the floor. Odd, that.”

Miller was all serious duty on the surface, but an uncharacteristic emotion flowed deeper. Something similar but softer bathed the stairs. Christian glanced up and saw a bit of white fabric poking around the corner of the wall atop the landing.

He imagined Miller sitting down here stoically, and little Isabella up there, staying as close as she could. Not only desire flowed between them in the silence. A deeper yearning was palpable, and it went both ways.

“I will check the garden now, sir.”

“There is a man there. He will raise the alarm if anyone intrudes. Better if you secured the house again. The upper chambers. Take your time and do it carefully. I will take your place here until you return.”

Miller began up the stairs, but paused on the fourth one. “When do you think they—When do you think Miss Montgomery will go back to China, sir?”

“Soon, Mr. Miller.”

Too soon.

She drifted toward the surface, but did not fully wake. Warmth surrounded her. The rhythm of another's breaths matched her own. Comfort and peace spread, easing her slowly out of her dream.

She touched the arm embracing her and smiled at the heartbeat against her back. Christian was here. She had not expected him.

She did not stir. She just enjoyed the way he held her and relished the contentment he brought to her. He had tried very hard not to wake her, she could tell. For an arrogant, somewhat imperious man, he had his moments of sweet consideration.

She finally reached the surface. She turned on her back, so his breaths tickled her ear. She resettled his embracing arm for her comfort. He in turn moved it again, so his hand could cup her breast. His hold just lay there, not in seduction but in a gesture of possession and unity.

“You are very late,” she said.

“I arrived soon after midnight, but allowed Miller a respite from his duties for a while.”

She guessed what Mr. Miller had done with this respite, while he was free to roam this house. She should scold Christian for aiding his servant in making free with her own, but she had neither the heart nor the hypocrisy to deny Isabella whatever happiness she could have right now.

“Miller asked me how long you would be staying in
England. He wants to know how much longer he has with her.”

The night's poignancy increased with his statement. He was not only talking about Miller and Isabella.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him that I thought you would be leaving soon. You said that your introduction to Howard the other day was fruitful, so I imagine it won't be long before you go.”

“Not too long, but not so soon either. That meeting was perhaps too fruitful. I am faced with an embarrassment of riches. I have a difficult choice to make.”

“Is it your choice alone?”

“Actually, it is not mine at all. I meant my brother will have a difficult choice. In the end it will be his decision, of course.”

“Of course.”

If one could hear a smile, she did in the way he said that. He did not believe Gaspar would make the choice any more than St. John did. It was true what St. John had said, that Gaspar was still green. Her brother would probably follow her counsel in this as in so much else.

“Both St. John and Mr. Howard would be good allies,” she explained. “The difference is that St. John wants to swallow Montgomery and Tavares, but Howard will allow us to remain independent. So the two alliances offer very different things.”

“Which one resolves the problems that brought you here?”

“St. John would solve the immediate ones. I do not think pirates prey on
his
ships. And his trading network is very big. He said that he does not think the Company's
monopolies will be renewed when their charter expires. He wants us for when it ends, for our Chinese base. He has it all planned. Our appeal is that we are so weak he can demand control.”

She puzzled it out in ways she had avoided. She did not lie to herself about the reason she kept putting it off. She had met her traders, and she had obtained the potential alliances. Her primary duty in London, her reason for making this journey in the first place, would be over once she settled this question.

“Howard no doubt also sees advantage in your Chinese base,” he said. “Since he does not want to swallow you, if the monopoly ends you will be free to reap the rewards yourself, and only share what you choose. Would you prefer that?”

He appeared genuinely interested. He lay on his side, that hand on her breast, and joined her in weighing it all. His questions encouraged her to think it through.

“Five years from now, if we make no serious missteps, we will flourish if we ally ourselves with Howard.”

“Then the choice is clear, is it not?”

Perhaps, but that future would happen only if she continued to guide Montgomery and Tavares the way she had the last six years. Gaspar could not steer the company that cleverly yet.

She wished now that Christian had not helped her to clarify the choices. He should have done more with his hands than hold her breast. He should have seduced her to remain indifferent to her duty.

“The other mission can be settled soon too,” he said.

“I do not have even one name, Christian. Not a single one, besides your father. Nor have I been vigilant in looking for them. Lady Phaedra asked me about my last letter for
Minerva's Banquet
at Caroline's engagement dinner, and I pretended it would be sent to her soon. Only it has not been written the way I intended. With what I learned about my father and yours, I lack the courage to investigate this now.”

He kissed her cheek. “If I thought that you would walk away from it with no regrets or guilt, if I believed you would be safe in retreat, I would urge you once more to put this matter aside.”

She turned her face toward his. “It might be better if I did.”

“That is different from knowing that you should. I have a name for you, darling. You need to tell me if you want me to finish this my own way, or if you want to face the man your father invisibly fought and write your last letter the way that you planned.”

She did not know what to say. Of course she wanted to confront that man. She wanted to see him ruined, along with any other men involved in this. Her belief in their evil had not changed.

Everything else had, however. She could not expose these men without also exposing Christian's father. Christian deserved more loyalty than that.

Nor could she write about this mission in
Minerva's Banquet
without admitting her own father's smuggling. His conversion would add drama to the story and absolve him in most eyes, but he would be forever linked to that evil.

“Once we do this, I will have no excuse to stay,” she said.

He rose up on his forearm and looked down at her. He kissed her. He lay down and pulled her on top of him so her body touched his from her head to her toes. His warmth lured her away from the sad future and back to the contented present.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

B
arnabas Meadowsun was crossing the courtyard of Doctors’ Commons when he noticed Christian. Christian took Leona's arm and walked in Meadowsun's direction, leaving Tong Wei near the gate. The cleric had no choice except to acknowledge them.

“Easterbrook. This is unexpected. It is a pleasure to see you, of course.” He barely smiled but then he never allowed his mouth to reflect joy or sorrow. Discretion had bred in him the ability to make his face a mask and his heart a locked vault.

Christian wondered if the man did not only hide emotions, but also eschew them. It was possible to achieve a state where nothing caused ripples in one's spirit, let alone waves. Christian had come close to that himself, after all.

Christian made introductions. Meadowsun made a little bow to Leona, but his manner conveyed that he was a busy man and had little time for social visits.

Meadowsun's mouth formed its bare smile again. “Are you here for the Faculty Office?”

“I am here to see you. The archbishop's clerk at Lambeth Palace said you were here today,” Christian said. “Miss Montgomery, perhaps you would like to sit here while I talk to Mr. Meadowsun.”

Leona accepted the invitation to perch on the nearby garden bench.

“I have been looking into my affairs,” Christian said. “Digging through my father's papers.”

“Ah, so that is why you are in the City. I am glad to see you taking up the reins of your position. It is my hope that you will expand your renewed interest in the world to include government duties. The archbishop feels the same way, and just mentioned it to me this morning.”

“His concern is generous. Now, regarding those papers. I found references to a company in which my father invested years ago. A trading company. No ships, though. The best I can tell, captains were contracted to move the cargo, and paid per shipment.”

“It probably is a common method of arranging trade. Your solicitor could explain it. I confess that most business legalities escape me.” Meadowsun managed not to see Leona sitting two feet away. He pretended she was not watching him with great interest and dangerous eyes.

“My solicitor has been very helpful, but I believe you can enlighten me further. I found evidence of this partnership, but I have received no income from it. My brother, who has been managing my investments, says the partnership must have been dissolved before my father passed away, but my solicitor—he has been helpful
, as I said—finds no documents to that effect, or even to the partnership's founding.”

Meadowsun glanced around the courtyard, seeking someone to save him from this boring conversation.

“Was it dissolved, Meadowsun?”

“How would I know?”

“You are one of the other partners.”

The barest frown. “I do not recall such an investment. If there are no documents how can you assume my involvement?”

“Correspondence indicates that at least four men invested. My father, you, Denningham, and Rallingport. Four of the men who met on a regular basis, to choose where and how to throw their united influence to preserve and protect England.”

The perplexed frown did not smooth. The face did not react.

“You still cannot remember? Hayden tells me that tracing this company's owners and earnings will not be difficult once we go to court. I thought I should speak with you first, however. A good deal of money has gone missing.”

“You are talking nonsense. I am no trader, no shipper. Nor was your father or the others you mention. What possible interest could we have in such things?”

“Profit,” Leona interrupted from the bench. “Profit of the worst kind. A good deal of profit. An obscene amount, I would guess, if the primary cargo was opium and the destination was China.”

Meadowsun's eyes turned wizened and shrewd. “I doubt you will find much relief in a court with this mythical business, Easterbrook.”

“I expect that I will. I certainly will get a hearing regarding your attacks on Miss Montgomery.”

BOOK: The Sins of Lord Easterbrook
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