“Allow me to buy you a drink,” Thomas said as he gestured for the waiter to bring another. He didn’t want the lord to grow nervous by pressing him too hard and too quickly for information. “We shall toast to my betrothed with the hope it improves her fondness of me.”
The change in the topic seemed to ease Thornton’s nerves. The lord raised his glass. “To the lady.”
They both drank though Thomas took only a sip.
“You’ve known Sir Alexander for a long time, eh?” Thomas asked.
“Since our university days. He did me a great favor, and we’ve been friends ever since.”
Though curious as to what that favor had been, learning about the past wouldn’t solve the current situation. “Good to have those sorts of friends.”
“Our lives are intertwined.” Thornton’s gaze held on the smooth surface of the table, but Thomas would’ve wagered he didn’t see it. The statement didn’t seem to please Thornton based on his somber tone. “In multiple ways.”
“Are you involved in the East India Company as well?” Thomas asked as if he didn’t already know.
“Yes.”
Thomas weighed his options. Thornton didn’t act as if he knew that Sir Alexander had threatened him. The knight would surely prefer to keep such things swept under the rug. Added to that was the friendliness of their conversation. If Sir Alexander had shared it, the lord would’ve avoided Thomas at all costs or acted as patronizing and threatening as the knight had.
“Sounds as if the Company is interested in my betrothed’s father’s business.”
Thornton stared at Thomas in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“Something Sir Alexander mentioned in passing.” He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug as if it mattered little to him. “Perhaps because of my relationship with Miss Gold, he thinks I could be of help. But I don’t know anything about docks or the like.”
“I have learned more than I cared to.” Thornton took another sip.
“Sir Alexander seems to have an avid interest in importing goods.”
“He believes trade is the key to our country’s power.”
“Our country’s or the Company’s?”
Thornton smiled and raised his glass. “That’s the question, isn’t it? He doesn’t believe we can have one without the other.”
“From what little I know the Company’s power might very well exceed England’s.”
Thornton frowned as he glanced about as if to make certain no one heard his remark. “Many in the Company would prefer that and have made it their goal.”
Thomas eased closer, trusting his instincts to press harder. “I can’t help but be concerned about Sir Alexander’s insistence on buying Sir Reginald’s business. His tactics of convincing him to sell seem less than honorable.”
After a long moment of silence, Thornton slowly nodded. “I confess that I feel the same. Sir Reginald isn’t being treated fairly. The two have some past that connects them, but I have difficulty believing Gold did all that Sir Alexander claims. But Sir Alexander won’t hear anything that contradicts his belief.” He glanced at Thomas. “Perhaps if Gold would speak with him to explain his view of those events, it might ease the tension.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t believe that’s possible. Sir Reginald’s health isn’t what it used to be.” Thomas feared he overstepped his bounds by saying that much. But surely the man’s absence from Society had been noticed by now.
“I see. That’s disappointing.”
“Thornton, I have to think we might want the same thing—to bring Sir Alexander to his senses. If that’s not possible, he’ll have to be stopped.” Thomas hesitated, wondering how much Thornton knew. “He’s going too far. Innocent people are being hurt on his orders.” He caught Thornton’s gaze. “They’re being murdered.”
The tightness around the man’s mouth suggested he either knew or suspected as much.
“Remaining silent makes us as guilty as he is.” Thomas watched the lord closely. “Help me stop him.”
Thornton shook his head. “That’s not possible. Do not ask it of me.” The tremble of fear in his voice was unmistakable.
“Then give me the information so I can do something. Where can I find him that I could speak with him?” Thomas wanted to grasp the lord by his lapels and shake him until he told him something—anything—that would help. He held onto his patience a moment longer, hoping he’d concede.
“He’ll be at Madame Gaston’s tomorrow evening. At midnight.”
Madame Gaston’s was a popular gaming hell just off St. James on King’s Street and frequented by many of the ton. Thomas had been there several times but preferred hells where the play was less expensive. Those who played at Madame Gaston’s were often willing to risk a fortune on the roll of a dice or the turn of a card.
Thomas liked to gamble but not at the risk of keeping a roof over his head and food on the table. He preferred places where more modest wagers were welcome.
“Vingt-et-un is his preferred game,” Thornton offered. “Though he’s been known to play hazard as well.”
Thomas preferred cards over dice and games that required skill rather than luck. But confronting him at such a place might be his best chance to find a way to coerce Sir Alexander to quit his plans to acquire Sir Reginald’s shipping business.
He could almost hear the echoes of his father’s laughter as he pondered how he could manage to accomplish such a feat. Then again, the earl wasn’t his true sire, so his opinion about Thomas didn’t really matter.
The realization lifted a weight from his shoulders and made him even more determined. He was his own man, not one defined by his father’s or anyone else’s expectations. He wanted to be the kind of man that Annabelle deserved and was worthy of her respect and admiration. Worthy of her love.
The time for action had come. To hell with staying silent.
~*~
Annabelle sighed as she stared at the blank sheet before her. It reminded her of her thoughts—a vast emptiness. The lack of ideas was disconcerting, something she’d never experienced. Half the day was gone and she had...nothing. No notes, no pages, no scenes, no words. Emotional distress of any kind made it difficult to write, but this felt so much worse.
Wasn’t this exactly what she’d feared? That she’d lose the gift of writing if she became involved with someone who didn’t support her ambition? Writing mysteries despite being married to a man who would rather she wrote poetry or memoirs would be incredibly difficult. She had the impression he hadn’t argued with his brothers on her behalf. To her, that meant he didn’t believe in her.
Surely her upset was only temporary. Yet she worried it was more. When might the words return? She already missed having her mind flooded with ideas and inspiration for the next story. Normally she couldn’t write them down fast enough. Now there was only a void.
She’d decided sometime in the middle of the night that she should simply find another publisher. After all, she’d thought she might have to do so before Thomas had taken over Artemis Press. But the idea held no interest at the moment.
Each time she relived him telling her that his press wouldn’t publish her work, hurt rolled over her. Crushing hurt. While he hadn’t specifically said so, the worry that he didn’t believe in the book or her writing made her want to hide under the bed covers and remain there for the foreseeable future. Especially after having a heady taste of what it might be like to have his full support and admiration.
She knew some publishing houses preferred to focus their efforts on particular types of books, so it should come as no surprise that Artemis Press had decided to do so as well. She just wished they’d wanted her book enough to honor the contract. While she knew she could insist Thomas do so, the idea of him publishing her book with reluctance held no appeal.
The more practical side of her insisted she move forward and push past this bump in the road. But it felt like far more than a bump. It felt like a mountain she didn’t have th
e skills or ambition to climb.
All because of Thomas.
His rejection of her book felt like a rejection of her. Where did that leave their relationship? Did he even wish to marry her? The changed circumstances shifted the balance of their relationship, removing it from a solid foundation to something shaky and unstable.
She set aside the blank sheet, the sight of it disheartening. No purpose would be served by further staring at it. She needed to turn her attention to a more productive task and hope her gift re-emerged once time had passed and her heart had settled.
If it ever did.
Her first book sat on the low table nearby and she reached for it, smoothing a hand over the leather binding as she remembered the pleasure she’d felt upon receiving it. Holding it in her hands had been a dream come true. One she was determined to experience again.
She opened the pages, coming to the marker she’d placed at the first murder scene and read it once again. Knowing that someone had deliberately copied her words in real life was terribly disturbing. The second marker pulled her, and she read that passage as well. She continued reading through the third murder then retrieved the blank paper to jot down a few notes as she reviewed the pivotal scenes again.
It didn’t make sense for Sir Alexander to have someone commit murder simply to buy the two docks. If he wanted them so badly, why not make each owner an offer they couldn’t refuse and be done with it? Why go to all the trouble and expense, not to mention the risk, of involving himself in a crime? As she knew from her study of characters, people didn’t do things without a reason. While she appreciated that her father’s dock, as well as the other one in question, might be in excellent locations, that was no reason for him to involve himself in murder.
Then why would he go to such lengths to have them?
There had to be a more personal reason behind Sir Alexander’s actions than what she and Thomas knew thus far. Murder could be committed in the heat of passion or with cold-blooded determination. Based on the few facts they had, she’d say it was the latter.
An idea came to mind, and while she wasn’t certain if she would be able to uncover any answers, she had to try. She set aside her notes and the book then went downstairs in search of her father. Perhaps his memory was intact today, and he could shed some light on the subject.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hello, Annabelle.” Thomas drew a relieved breath as she joined him in the Gold drawing room later that morning. Though concerned he would be told she wasn’t receiving, the butler had greeted him warmly and shown him inside.
As he took in her presence, he realized how much he missed her. How much he wanted their relationship to return to the way it had been. He prayed that within the next two days, it would.
But first, he needed her help. His plan to force Sir Alexander to acquiesce could fail, so he wanted a secondary plan in place. However, it required a significant amount of Annabelle’s assistance. Would she refuse, considering how upset she must be as well as the fact that he couldn’t explain the reason for any of this?
“I hope the day finds you well.” The chilliness in her expression caused his heart to ache. The distant mask wasn’t what he wanted. Not after he’d seen so much more in her eyes only a few days ago. Had he lost her affection and trust forever?
Though he longed to draw her into his arms and tell her all would be well, that he hadn’t meant what he’d said, he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he knew she would be safe, along with everyone else for whom they cared.
“I confess that I’ve had better days.” He reprimanded himself for hinting at his inner turmoil. “I’ve come to ask a favor.”
“Oh?” Her eyes became even cooler if that were possible.
How could he bridge the distance between them without telling her everything? He already knew the answer—he couldn’t. Not until all this was over and Sir Alexander had been stopped.
“Would it be possible for you to write a different sort of chapter for your serial that’s published in the broadsheet?”
“Different?” Her brow furrowed. “How so?”
He explained what he wanted but not the reason behind it.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “That doesn’t fit with the story that has unfolded thus far. My readers will be confused. What do you hope to achieve if I were to do this?”
“Annabelle,” he moved closer, longing to touch her, his gaze holding hers. “I know I ask much, but I need you to trust me.”
She hesitated for so long that he worried she wouldn’t agree. “You’re asking much, considering you couldn’t be bothered to honor our contract.”
He flinched at her words, the hurt in her tone and expression causing his chest to ache even more. He hated that he’d caused her such pain. Reminding himself this was for her safety and their future, he said, “I’m sorry for that. More sorry than you can possibly understand. Please know that I think you are a brilliant, talented writer.”
“But you’re not interested in publishing my books.”
He swallowed hard against the temptation to tell her the truth. But what if his plan failed? “Not today.” Did she understand what he was trying to tell her?
“Humph.” She clenched her hands then at last nodded. “Very well. I believe I could put something together.”
“Perfect.” His chest loosened at her agreement. The road ahead was difficult, but he refused to give up. Not when hope still burned bright within him. “We don’t have much time. The story would need to appear in the coming morning’s edition.”
Her eyes widened. “I will do what I can, but I don’t think the editor could print it so quickly.”
“I’ll take care of contacting him. Just send the story to him as you normally do.”
“All right.” She bit her lip as if something else was on her mind. “I don’t know if this helps with whatever it is you’re doing, but I asked my father a few questions about Sir Alexander Bolton.”
“What did he say?” Thomas shouldn’t have been surprised by her forethought but he was. The woman never ceased to amaze him.
“They competed for a shipping contract years ago. One that would aid England’s war efforts. He made it sound as if they had quite the rivalry.”
“But your father won and was awarded a knighthood for his efforts.”
“How did you know?”
“Hopefully, I will be able to tell you soon. If you can work anything else you discovered into the story, that would be even better. For now, I must go.” Unable to resist, he reached out to gently touch her cheek, wishing he could do so much more. “I’ll be in touch on the morrow.”
“Thomas?”
He met her gaze, hoping she wouldn’t ask questions he couldn’t answer.
“Take care.” The coolness in her eyes had been replaced with worry.
That made two of them, for he was worried as well.
“I will.” He nodded and left, his heart a little lighter even as he hoped that when he next called on her, their conversation would be quite different.
~*~
Thomas’s next stop was at a lending library, where he had arranged to meet the Earl of Aberland. He’d sent a discreet message to the lord, hoping he wasn’t making a terrible mistake by bringing him into his plan, but he knew he couldn’t do all of this alone. Having someone like Aberland involved could mean the difference between success and failure. Especially since Thomas was taking a risk so great that it gave him pause.
His actions would place everyone Sir Alexander had mentioned in danger. If his plan failed... He gave himself a mental shake. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make this work.
Since he knew he was being watched, meeting Aberland at the lending library should provide the perfect cover. He’d selected a location that might seem normal for him and arrived early so he and the earl wouldn’t arrive at the same time. Anyone watching wouldn’t think twice about his stop there.
Thomas entered the building in the Strand and looke
d about with interest. A. K. Newman, another publisher, had started the circulating library stocked with their own books as well as others. Members paid a fee to belong then a small additional fee for each book they borrowed. Thomas wanted Artemis Press to do something similar as soon as they had the capital. Having a look at Newman’s would give him a better idea of how it could be done.
He could already imagine having multiple copies of Annabelle’s books in their own establishment. That would place her stories in even more reader’s hands since the cost of purchasing books prohibited many readers from buying their own.
What better way to ensure the success of his plan to stop Sir Alexander than to act as if he’d already succeeded? Surely fate would note his actions and give him what he wanted—an end to Sir Alexander’s crimes and a happy future with Annabelle.
He looked about, noting the large windows in the front, which provided excellent lighting. A long counter with several clerks behind it stretched across half the length of the room where members could request a book. Numerous chairs, sofas, and tables were situated about the room, giving people a place to wait while the book they wanted was retrieved.
Two large wooden doors stood on the left side of the room and marked the entrance to the reading room. More tables and chairs there provided members with a place to meet to discuss books or any other topics of their choosing.
Nearly a dozen people milled about, most of them women. Already he could see a few things he’d do differently. Encouraging members to linger with a more welcoming atmosphere, assisting patrons who wished to join book clubs with other readers of similar interests, perhaps even offering light refreshments or adding a tearoom would be advantageous.
He moved to one of the chairs to watch as he waited for Aberland. Less than a quarter of an hour had passed when the earl arrived. Rather than crossing the room to greet him, Thomas simply nodded then tipped his head toward a more deserted corner of the library.
“Raybourne.” Aberland raised a brow as he glanced about the place. “This is a rather unusual place to meet.”
A Rogue No More (The Rogue Chronicles Book 3) Page 21