by Heather Boyd
His lips lifted into a smile. “Already managing me, Becca.”
She scowled again. She had been keeping an eye on Rafferty’s comings and goings but wouldn’t admit to it now. She had engaged in intimate relations with the man. She would not have her happiness destroyed ever again because she had misjudged his character. “My name is Rebecca Warner. Mrs. Rebecca Warner.”
He shrugged. “The name doesn’t suit you.”
“That is not your decision to make. Please address me properly once we leave this establishment. I will not be a party to continuing such a wild and ludicrous tale as you’ve concocted for our stay.”
He sat forward suddenly, tapping his fingers on the table between them. “What if I told you the business that takes me to London is you?”
She felt her insides take a little swooping dive at his confession. “Me?”
“It came to my attention very late last night that you were leaving the estate—without saying goodbye, I might add.”
“I tried to tell you…” She trailed off.
“You should have tried harder.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “At first I thought it was because of me that you were going, too.”
“No.” She blushed. “My decision had nothing to do with our affair.”
“Damn it, woman, you could drive a man back to the bottle. Do you think all I care about is sex?”
She felt her face heating. “You do talk about it a lot.”
“I care about you.” He scowled now. “What the devil is going on? Is it true you are in dun territory?”
Rebecca stilled. “Did Father tell you that?”
“Something along those lines. Don’t blame him now. I got him blind drunk to discover what he knew.”
She scowled. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Stapleton never remembers what he says when he’s been in his cups, so I doubt he will realize. And in his drunken state, he stopped worrying about his wife’s delicate health, at least for a while. He was torn about letting you go alone to sort this out, so I led him to the idea of conscripting me to take you in my carriage. He’s happily at home now looking after his wife. Now give me the real story. It’s impossible to believe you of all women could have run out of money.”
Oh he was devious! “How do you know that?”
“You spend money like a miser and count every penny twice before you go to bed at night.”
“I do not!” She was offended by that description. She drew herself up straight. “There is nothing wrong with being cautious.”
“Which is why I know you’ve been poorly used. Once your father told me what little he knew, I made my own arrangements.”
“I don’t need help,” she warned. She stood quickly and turned away, walking to the window to hide her frustration. “I never ask for help from anyone,” she said.
Rafferty followed her to the window, stopping close behind her. “You don’t need me, but you will have me.”
She turned to look at him, frowning in annoyance, “You are presumptuous.”
“Oh, I know that.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “We have started something, you and I. I feel compelled to understand you. You refuse to accept help from your father, the rest of your family I assume don’t have a clue. They are too wrapped up in their own busy lives to notice yours might be in jeopardy. You keep your secrets close to your chest but upon consideration, it’s plain to see you were worried about this yesterday after Peter Warner had gone. But I’m not actually offering to solve your problems. I will, however, be by your side as you investigate whatever this is.”
Something inside Rebecca softened so suddenly, she gasped out a sob.
“I’m here, Becca, and you are not alone anymore,” he whispered. “It will take more than a few harsh words and scowls between us to drive me away.”
Although she had feared to trust any man, believing that she must stand on her own two feet, she was relieved by Rafferty’s promise. Even in her marriage, she had felt alone.
Rafferty did not try to exert any control over her, really. He might follow along behind her though—large enough to intimidate anyone who might stand in her way. She reconsidered his coming with her. She could use Rafferty to her advantage if he kept his promise and stayed in the background until needed. “Thank you.”
His arms wrapped around her and she fell against him, breathing deep. He was a kind man, the sort she once imagined her husband might be to her. She had liked lying in his arms at night, but this was even better.
His hands swept down her back in a soothing manner. “Tell me everything now.”
So she did, and it felt good to unburden herself at last. She told him about Charlotte’s habit of using Rebecca’s connections to attend parties she otherwise would not be invited to. Convincing Rebecca to pay for a succession of small things they hadn’t coin for at the time and never repaying her promptly or at all. The increased expense of her Bath holiday a year ago and the new invitation she’d just declined. “Now it seems someone might be running up bills in my name again,” she said. “My solicitor also manages my funds and he sends me a statement every quarter. But one of the expenses he included in the most recent was not mine.”
He kissed the top of her head. “There’s more. Go on.”
Rebecca sighed. “Peter Warner really called to warn me he had uncovered similar discrepancies in his finances too,” she whispered. “He has lost faith in Barclay and intends to confront him.”
“As he should.” He cupped head gently in one large hand, and she pressed her cheek into his palm. “Your father said your solicitor is next to useless.”
“That is his opinion.”
“Then tell me yours,” he asked.
She blinked back tears at his question. “I have trusted Barclay since I became a widow. There have been a few minor mistakes but Peter’s warning has me wondering if I’ve missed anything else. I feel it would be prudent to assess the situation myself so that is why I left without warning anyone but my father. Barclay has worked tirelessly for me over the years. I need to know I have not trusted the wrong man again.”
“You are right to be cautious. A few quiet words with him should give you the answers you seek.”
Rebecca looked up quickly. “You’re going to be a problem for me, aren’t you?”
“Undoubtedly, yes,” he promised with a grin. “I do not like it when my good friends are imposed upon.”
Good friends? Was that how he thought of her? She didn’t want that to be all they were to each other. “No violence.”
“Trust me,” he whispered before releasing her completely and stepping back.
She sighed. “That isn’t easy for me.”
“My dear woman, I’ve spent the last week in close proximity to you, getting in your way on purpose. I understand what you fear most of all now.”
“What is that?”
“Depending on anyone for your happiness.” He smiled quickly. “I promise you’ll hardly notice I’m with you. If there is trouble, however, I happen to be on good terms with the London magistrate.”
“I don’t think a magistrate will be necessary for a series of minor mistakes made by a clerk in his employ.”
“You should always plan for the worst while expecting the best,” he said. “We’ll visit Mr. Barclay together.”
Rebecca worried her lip.
“What is it now?”
“What will people say if they notice you and I together?”
He moved to stand before her, his expression grave. “When will you understand that I’m not an enemy to your reputation? We will have your maid and my daughter tagging along as chaperones at all times.”
She shook her head. “It would not be right to take Ava with us.”
“The maid comes whether you want her to hear what is going on or not.”
“She already knows,” Rebecca admitted. “What do we do now?”
“Well, tonight, my lovely wife unfortunately must sleep alon
e because I told the innkeeper I snore quite terribly.” He shrugged. “Beyond that, after your affairs are in order, I don’t know.”
Rebecca nodded slowly, but her mind was awhirl with uncertainty. Permanency had not been a consideration when she’d met with Rafferty the first time. Now, though…well it was indeed something that seemed very appealing.
Chapter 15
Adam waited impatiently within the carriage as his card was presented at Rebecca’s door the day after they’d arrived in London. They had parted company the afternoon before without making plans to see each other again. They had all been exhausted, but he did not think Rebecca had meant to forget him. Still, he had delivered himself at the time he deemed suitable for their outing—half afraid she’d gone on without him. There was no knocker on her door to announce her return to town. It was better that way too, in his opinion. The creditors would not come knocking.
A servant of the Upper Brook Street townhouse suddenly appeared at the door and pushed it wide. Rebecca appeared, and then she and her maid Nancy slipped down the stairs and into his carriage without delay. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Warner. Nancy.”
Rebecca’s maid smiled quickly and took her place across the carriage while her mistress fidgeted at Adam’s side.
He glanced her way. “The driver needs to know where to take us first.”
Rebecca removed a paper from her reticule and read off a location for the waiting driver. “As quick as you can,” she asked.
Adam chuckled. “The last time you said that, we destroyed a carriage and I had to have my head stitched. Please do not rush the journey, Mr. Chapman.”
“Yes, my lord.”
She smiled quickly. “How is Lady Ava this morning?”
“Surly. Ava misses you already.” He looked out the window. Ava had not been happy to be left behind today. However, he had promised she could host a fine dinner to share with Rebecca soon. He carried an invitation in his pocket for that express purpose that he would deliver later when they were alone. “She begged to come see you.”
Rebecca sighed. “I thought she understood.”
“She has enjoyed your company a great deal. It is normal for her to become attached to the only friends she has made in her short life. How was your evening?”
Rebecca smiled. “I found last night a bit quiet. What did you do?”
“I had some errands to run and then went to the club. I ran into an old friend there. Sir John Culpepper will be only to happy to lend any assistance we might require.”
The maid was following their exchange with unbridled curiosity so he said no more for now.
Thank heavens the solicitor’s office was only a short distance away.
They stopped before an impressive building. Clearly the solicitor was doing well. Adam assisted Rebecca exit the carriage and waited till the maid joined them. He escorted Rebecca up the stairs and into the entrance hall. To one side, he heard voices engaged in a heated debate.
“This way,” Rebecca said as she strode forward toward a tall side desk and rang a little brass bell. A neatly dressed young man suddenly appeared from the back, smiling broadly. “Welcome to Barclay & Jones. How may I help you?”
“I should like to speak with Mr. Barclay,” Rebecca explained.
The fellow winced a little. “I am afraid that is quite impossible today, madam.”
“Is he here?” Adam asked quickly before Rebecca could identify herself as a client. Adam thought an ambush might be the best way to obtain the reassurances she sought.
“Yes, of course, sir. But I am afraid he is in a meeting with a very important client.”
Adam presented his card to the fellow. “The matter is of great importance to me.”
The clerk’s eyes grew round. “Please forgive me, my lord. I did not recognize you.”
“Of course, I am not a client of this establishment. Not yet, anyway,” he murmured. What is your name, sir?”
“It is Gibbons. Anthony Gibbons, my lord.” He began flicking through an appointment book. “Mr. Barclay could see you in a few days.”
“Today,” Adam insisted.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.” He intended to get Rebecca a meeting any way he could. “Do you have somewhere private we might wait for Mr. Barclay?”
The fellow bit his lip as he glanced toward the distant doorway where Adam had heard raised in argument before. All had grown quiet inside.
Gibbons seemed a smart fellow, proved it too when he quickly rounded the desk and gestured Adam toward another doorway further down the hall. “This way, if you please, my lord.”
Adam smiled as he ushered Rebecca into the offered room and held a seat for her before he looked around properly. The place was full of files and paperwork. It was a busy practice. He could see how mistakes might be made.
Adam made sure that Rebecca’s maid had a chair and turned back to Gibbons. “There’s nothing we need now but for Barclay to see us. You may return to your duties, sir.”
“Very good, sir.”
When the fellow had gone on his way, clearly reluctant to do so, Rebecca turned to Adam to whisper. “I’ve only met with Barclay in the library at the front before. This must be his private office.”
“I thought it must be too.”
Rebecca leaned toward him. “The clerk would have sent me away but for you.”
“Possibly,” he said. “That would have been a mistake.”
They waited only ten minutes before a tall man with thinning hair burst into the room, full of apologies for keeping Adam waiting.
And then he noticed Rebecca perched at his side and his smile slipped away. “Mrs. Warner?”
“Mr. Barclay.”
“I had no idea you’d be returning to Town.”
“I arrived only yesterday.”
The man glanced at Adam again but appeared very confused. Adam tipped his head toward Rebecca and then folded his arms across his chest. He was only there to intimidate so that Rebecca could conduct this interview.
Barclay turned his attention to Rebecca quickly. “How can I be of service, madam?”
“I have come to discuss the statement you sent to me last week.”
“Unfortunately, the matter is still under investigation.”
“What was there to investigate?” Adam cut in. “Clearly, Mrs. Warner was in Suffolk at the time the purchase was made.”
Rebecca shushed him. “I was hoping you might allow me to view the paperwork.”
“For what purpose? You say the bill was not yours to pay. I will deal with the matter and reprimanded the clerk involved if he has made a mistake.”
If. Adam did not care for Mr. Barclay’s tone at all.
“But you were sure it was mine in the beginning. Forgive me for being particular about this matter, but I simply cannot get the situation out of my mind. I have reviewed all my previous shopping expenditure twice already.”
When the fellow hesitated, Adam uncrossed his arms and made sure it seemed he was about to interfere again. That seemed enough for Barclay to shuffle through the contents of his desk and obtain a much-handled brown folder. Adam noted the file was quite small.
As the file changed hands, he sat back.
Rebecca quickly acquainted herself with the contents of her file. He saw an accounting of numbers on several pages but also loose papers inserted at the back. Adam did not attempt to spy on her finances. He didn’t need Rebecca to have a fortune in order to marry her. He waited patiently, watching Barclay instead.
Barclay smiled back until one page suddenly slipped out her file and fell to the floor.
Adam quickly returned it to her promptly and then looked at Barclay again. The fellow seemed unconcerned as Rebecca studied the returned page and when she reinserted it at the very end of the file without comment he smiled warmly at Rebecca. “I trust everything is in order.”
“I understand the situation better now, sir.” Rebecca handed the
file back, but she was studying Barclay closely too. The same look that tended to unnerve lesser gentleman.
Barclay showed no sign of discomfort however and Adam relaxed.
“I am sorry that you’ve come for nothing, madam,” Barclay said. “If you had but waited I would have had an answer for you before the end of the month.”
Rebecca stood. “Thank you, Mr. Barclay, for seeing me at such short notice. I look forward to reading your next quarterly report.”
“Are you returning to Suffolk now?”
Adam glanced at Rebecca quickly, but she ignored him and bestowed a smile on the solicitor. “I am not sure, but I will write to tell you my travel plans as I usually do.”
They had not talked about the future but Adam would any day now.
Adam nodded. “Good day Mr. Barclay.”
“Lord Rafferty, I hope to see you again soon.”
“Perhaps,” he said without committing himself to another meeting. He escorted Rebecca out, noting that the door to the library were open but was no longer occupied.
He heard Rebecca ask to be taken to a new address.
“Mr. Garrick’s Emporium of Fine Wares? Sounds impressive.”
“I highly doubt it will be,” she warned him.
“Not to worry. You’ll have me for protection. I’m glad you asked me to escort you,” Adam teased.
He noticed the maid grinning at his remark, but then turned back to the view as they left the part of London he knew best. “Who do you think was in library?”
“It was Peter Warner,” Rebecca confessed. “I would recognize his voice anywhere.”
“He wasn’t happy.”
“No he certainly was not.” Rebecca leaned closer. “Whenever I meet with Barclay he carries my file to the library and back again. When he returned to his office after meeting with Peter he had nothing in his hands.”
“Do you think he has taken his business elsewhere?”
“Possibly.” Her brow furrowed. “Peter cannot tolerate incompetence and he was already suspicious when we last spoke.”
“We are close, my lord,” Mr. Chapman called.
The carriage came to a complete stop, and Adam looked out and immediately wished he was with any other woman. He didn’t like the look of the neighborhood. “I don’t suppose you would wait here and allow me to deal with this matter for you?”