“Yes.”
Sergeant Redcake steepled his fingers. “I can see your concern, then, Captain Shield. I would hold everyone to seven percent until they can prove differently.”
Judah nodded. “A man after my own thoughts. I will see what profit the rest of the year brings.”
Ewan Hales entered, carrying a tray with a teapot, cups, and an assortment of small cakes. “I thought you might like this, sir, given the beastly fog, and these cakes are going to be introduced next week if you approve them.”
Sergeant Redcake raised an eyebrow. “How did I manage to be so fortunate as to stop by today?”
Judah laughed and produced a knife from the desk. He cut each cake into three parts. “So tell me, Hales, how did you manage to find a lady friend among the accountants? I should have thought the cakies were pretty enough for any man.”
Hales patted his stomach. “I’d rather have money than pastry. It’s not as if food is hard to come by here.”
“Well said,” Judah agreed. “I take your point.” He separated the pieces onto three plates and handed them out, then sat back.
The telephone rang shrilly in the outer office. The marchioness had it installed when Hatbrook put them in at Hatbrook House and Farm, but Judah still didn’t like the sound. Hales excused himself, taking his plate, while Sergeant Redcake took a slip of paper and pencil and started making notes.
“Not to your liking?” Judah inquired as he poured himself a steaming cup of the brew, leaving it dark so as not to adulterate his tasting session.
“I do not like blue-dyed food, unless it is blueberry flavored or some such. Dyes are often toxic.”
“What is the flavor?” Judah eyed the cake and took a small bite. “Just vanilla? No, maybe a bit of cardamom.”
“Exactly. Just because it might taste a bit exotic is no reason to poison people. Put a bit of fruit or nut on it. Makes it look more expensive that way anyhow.”
Judah reached for a slip of paper and made his own note to inquire into the dye. “I met a dye man recently. Courtnay, from Liverpool.”
“He’s in clothing dye, not food. Redcake’s has always prided itself on clean food, suitable for fine ladies and children. Something to keep in mind.”
“Sound advice,” he agreed. “Now, what do you think of this pink number?”
“Fruit dye,” Redcake said. “So that’s all right. But say, I was here to tell you more about Mark Cross.”
Judah licked cream off his lips. “This cake is very good. Flavored with coffee.”
“I shall try it next.”
“So, Lieutenant Cross?”
“Yes. My man Khan ran across some more news in India.”
“I am happy to pass along anything you hear. The family would no doubt be pleased to receive you, except they suffered a death last week.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I wrote Mark Cross a letter of condolence but then wasn’t sure where to send it.”
Redcake limped back to the armchair by the fire. “I’ll put it in my next packet for Khan, if you like. I’m sure he can get it to Jaipur.”
“Thank you. So Cross is still with that trader?” Judah took the other armchair, still holding his teacup, and stretched his damp shoes to the fire.
“Apparently. Though it might be getting a bit sticky.”
“Why do you say that?”
Redcake stroked his chin. “First, Khan said he’d heard that Lieutenant Cross was trading in moonstones.”
“For the trader?”
“That was the thing—no. I thought the family had no money.”
“Maybe he had army pay. He couldn’t have spent it all on clothing and he didn’t gamble or have more than the obvious vice.”
“Anything is possible. At any rate, he made a deal to sell them to a friend of Khan’s who is a jewel trader. Then, when he came back to the shop, he had two black eyes and an arm in a sling.”
“What happened?”
Redcake shrugged. “I have no idea. The trader beat him because he stole the stones? Some rough trade? A fight?”
“Your friend didn’t inquire?”
“Nothing else about it was in the letter.”
Judah swallowed the rest of the coffee cream cake. “Not sure if this is anything I should be reporting to his family.”
“I see your point. But if he sent some other word to them, this might put things in context.”
“Pooling information.”
“Exactly. That’s what we’re doing about Theodore Bliven, between myself and your brother.”
Judah bit the insides of his cheeks, not quite sure what to say about the sergeant’s sister’s wayward lover. “I understand the lady is having a difficult time of it.”
“My sister Matilda is enjoying the worst of luck,” Redcake agreed. “My sister Rose, well, she fell out with your brother from the start. She’s at the manor for now, keeping house for Father while Mother helps Matilda in Heathfield.”
“Our families are quite mixed in with each other. But come, it is a bad time of year to be melancholy, what with the weather.”
Redcake narrowed his eyes. “Accusing me of moodiness, Captain?” His slitted eyes pulled his brows close over his prominent nose, giving the man a look of sheer villainy.
Judah held up his hands, laughing. “Never.”
One side of Gawain’s mouth tilted up. “I did always think you were a good one, despite being a toff.”
“Now our roles have reversed somewhat.”
“I may have more money than you, but we’re both businessmen and that gives us a great deal in common. I’ll stand for you at my club, if you’d like. The word in Society is that you haven’t claimed a place anywhere.”
“I’ve thought about the Travellers Club. I know the waiting list is long, so by the time they contact me my ship should be in.”
“Ship?”
“I invested in gems. I don’t intend to be without funds forever.”
“Funny that our lieutenant had a similar thought. But then you were friends.”
“Lots of good stones in India. But no one beat me over mine. Let us hope they arrive and then I can speak to you about your club.”
“It’s nothing fancy. We have rooms for now, rather than an entire house to ourselves. No accommodations.” Redcake shifted in his chair. “You can afford it on your salary here.”
Judah scratched at his cheek. “Then it might be just the thing. A club for men of business mentality?”
“Importers, local tradesmen. You know, Courtnay is a member, though I think he has one or two other memberships. Why don’t you come for dinner some night this week? I am here until Friday.”
“You are certain they would want me?”
“You fit right in as manager of Redcake’s, but as a marquess’s brother, you shall be an utter coup. I would imagine the board will elect you in that very night.”
They both stood, shook hands, scheduled an appointment for Thursday night. Judah never thought he would find enduring friendship with a sergeant, but life had taken him strange places this past year.
He held up a finger and hunted in his desk for the letter to Lieutenant Cross. “For your Khan.”
Redcake took it and tucked it into his coat. “I will send it along.”
The next day Judah called at the Cross home. The news from Redcake might not be worth passing along, but he wanted to check on Miss Cross.
He found George and Miss Cross much altered from the cheerful duo of his last visit. Dressed in black, the lady looked glum. Even her hair had lost its sheen. The shabby house’s vitality had fled as well. The children were still at the nursery at Earl Gerrick’s home so that the house could be thoroughly cleaned, an activity that had not taken place in some months thanks to Mrs. Cross’s illness.
“She ran this home as neatly as you please,” George told him earnestly, setting down a black-rimmed teacup. The contents had been openly doctored with a flask. “I wish you could have known
her before our life became all about doctors, medicines, and treatments.”
Miss Cross patted her brother’s hand. “She was truly the best of women.”
“At least now”—George hiccuped—“we won’t need your salary anymore to pay for Mrs. Gortimer and you can run the house. I know you learned a great deal from Nancy.”
Judah watched Miss Cross’s eyelids lift as she heard this bit of news. He could tell George’s plan had not been discussed.
“Dear George,” she said, patting his hand again. “You know you cannot depend on me. I might marry.”
“You might, you might,” he said mournfully.
With a glance at Judah, she said, “I think the best plan is to keep my salary and hire a housekeeper. That way you’ll have someone trained if I do leave.”
“We cannot afford a housekeeper,” he cried. “That is for a greater home than this.”
“Then at least someone to do the heavy work,” Miss Cross said. “Hetty is quite competent if she doesn’t have to do everything herself. Then there might be money left for school fees for at least one of the boys, once we’ve paid the doctor bills.”
“Well,” he sighed, with a sidelong glance at Judah. “It is true that Cross ladies should not go unmarried. Our blood runs too hot, you know.”
“Really, brother,” Miss Cross said, her cheeks flushing. “I simply meant that I am still young and might have a household of my own one day. And you might remarry in time. I know dear Nancy wished it.”
“I’m sure Captain Shield does not want to hear of our domestic trials.”
“Captain Shield may find them quite interesting, in fact,” she replied. “Since he has so recently come to London and set up his own household.”
“That is true,” George agreed. “Have you found satisfactory servants, Captain? I have never had a bachelor establishment, at least until now.”
“I am not home very much,” Judah confessed. “But the house is warm and clean.”
“Make sure they are not robbing you,” George said, emptying his teacup and filling it again with his flask. “The maid we had before Hetty was a dreadful thief.”
Judah set down his teacup. “Employees are necessary but can be troublesome, I give you that. However, I came to speak of troublesome relatives, not of staff.”
Miss Cross pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders. “Do you have word of Mark?”
“I do. Apparently he’s been trading in gems, so he might be building his fortune. But, I’ve also heard he sustained minor injuries.”
“How?” said Miss Cross as George barked, “What?”
“Nothing serious. Some kind of arm injury. I considered not sharing the information as you’ve had so much trouble already, but if it were my brother I’d want to know any insignificant detail.”
“Quite,” Magdalene said.
“I took the liberty of sending him a letter. I assume you’ve done the same.”
Her fingers laced over her heart. “We wrote him in care of the army as usual, but I don’t suppose that will get to him now.”
“It is hard to say,” Judah agreed. “I sent mine through a different channel. Perhaps one or both of the letters will reach him.”
“I’ve dreamed of opening the door one day and finding him on my doorstep, restored to us,” George said.
“It may happen,” Judah said. “How about Manfred? Is he in residence presently?”
George pulled out his flask. “Took himself off to Brighton directly after the funeral. Went to stay with some friends there. Seemed odd with the Season beginning.”
“He can cast off mourning in the south,” Miss Cross said, a decided edge in her tone.
“Youth,” George said, touching his black armband. “He does not understand what we have lost.”
“Captain, I should tell you that I think it will take me a little longer before I can return to work. We have much to do here before the children can come home.”
He nodded. “Take as much time as you need.”
“I thought another week, past this one. I absolutely plan to see you in the Square on the twenty-fourth of the month.”
“I shall tell Betsy.”
“Have Irene and Tom started to work in the Fancy?”
“On Monday, I believe.”
She licked her lips. He couldn’t help remembering their kisses. He shifted in his chair.
“Should I return sooner?”
“Of course not. You need to settle the house for the children. And hire the new servant you mentioned.”
Miss Cross gave him a grateful smile.
George turned his gaze to Judah as if he had not been paying any attention to the conversation. “We are planning to pick up the children on Monday next, Captain Shield. I wonder if you’d do us the honor of dining at our uncle’s home that night. Our family feels so strongly about the connection with you.”
Judah wondered if the earl was befriending him in the hopes of winning back Hatbrook’s regard, securing his sister’s hand in marriage to his second son, the Honorable Geoffrey Cander, perhaps, or his heir, Viscount Napsea. All this talk of marriage made him a bit nervous. He liked the girl, but she was an employee, after all.
However, he’d absolutely like to talk to some of the family, to hear the gossip about the Prince of Wales. “I would be pleased to accept.”
“Jolly good,” George said with a burst of enthusiasm. “I shall not keep you any longer.”
“Thank you for relaying the information about our brother,” Miss Cross said. Her gaze met his.
He thought she meant to convey some message, but wasn’t sure what it was. At least he would see her again soon.
On Friday evening, Judah was sitting in front of his fire when he heard a thumping at the door. As he set down his papers, his valet appeared.
“The Marquess of Hatbrook and Lady Elizabeth Shield are here to see you,” he announced.
Judah jumped to his feet. “They are? I was expecting a summons to appear at Hatbrook House.” Without instructing his valet, he rushed into the front hall.
Beth was all dimpled grin as she rushed into his arms. “I knew you’d be happy to see us!”
“Of course I am.” He set her at arm’s length and admired her fashionable black gown. “Aren’t you all grown up? But you could have sent me a note. I’d have come to Belgravia.”
“I wanted to see your cozy nest and understand why you would choose bachelor digs rather than stay at the mansion.” She glanced around the hall. “I do not know what I expected. Dancing girls? Purple velvet fainting couches and mysterious smoke drifting through the doors?”
“You’re confusing me with some ladies’ novel, I expect,” he said. “Penny, take the coats, if you will.”
His housemaid came into the hall and took the outerwear. Judah ordered tea and took them into the parlor.
Beth glanced around her, proclaiming everything full of charm. “Do you play?” she asked, pointing to the hired piano.
“No. The furnishings came with the house. You can try the instrument for me and see if it is any good.” He turned to light the fire.
Beth sat on the bench and lifted the keyboard cover. The familiar sound of a Mozart piece assaulted Judah’s ears with flat keys. He hoped his fire would be more successful than the music. His only callers before now were George and Manfred Cross a time or two when the weather had been much warmer.
“Stop that racket,” Hatbrook said, laughing. “A piano tuner must be called immediately.”
“I agree,” Judah said. “On my list.”
“Are you going to purchase your own furnishings?” Hatbrook asked, settling himself in an armchair.
“I haven’t thought to do so,” Judah admitted. “Seems like the duty of a wife, and I have no thought to marry.”
“You should.”
“Bah. I do not know what I have to offer a wife. My paternity—”
“Is irrelevant,” said Hatbrook. “You are my brother and that is good
enough for most any woman, excepting a royal.”
Judah held back a smile. What would his brother say to his suspicions about his parentage? The parlor door opened and he looked up, hoping to see a decent presentation of tea and cakes, but instead, it was his valet again.
“Mr. Gawain Redcake to see you, Captain. Are you at home?”
“Yes, of course.”
The sergeant stepped into the small room a moment later, followed by the tea.
“You’ll have to tell me if the tea is any good, Beth,” he told his sister, who frowned at the piano as she tried each key. “I haven’t hosted a lady yet.”
“Ah, but we have a connoisseur,” Hatbrook said, nodding in return to Sergeant Redcake. “The importer himself has arrived.”
“How are you, Hatbrook?” the sergeant asked, shaking hands.
“Very well, Gawain. Have you come to sort my brother out about Redcake’s?”
The sergeant bowed to Beth, who smiled at him before returning to her keys. He stumped to the sofa. “Not at all. I came to offer my congratulations if you want them.”
“Good news?” Judah asked. “Beth, shouldn’t you pour the tea?”
She left the piano and took a chair next to Hatbrook. Judah noticed the sergeant watching her pour with an air of complete concentration.
“Sergeant?” he prodded.
“You should call me Gawain,” said the man absently. “We are related by marriage now.”
“I shall in future. What news?”
“Ah, that. As I expected, you were voted into the Euphonious Commerce Society yesterday. Are you going to become a member?”
“You’ve chosen a club without consulting me?” Hatbrook asked. “You know I could find you a place in one of mine.”
“This is a club for businessmen,” Judah said. “I fit right in.”
“I see.” Hatbrook’s face was impassive as he thanked Beth for his tea and slice of bread and butter.
“Where do you live, Gawain?” Beth asked.
“At the family home in Bristol,” he said, smiling at her.
Judah had never thought Gawain the type to smile, not since their acquaintance had been refreshed. His wounds had served to make him taciturn. But now he saw a toothy smile, a certain geniality of manner. Could Gawain have feelings for Beth?
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