“Just keep looking,” Teddy murmured, her eyes beginning to blur. As much as she knew this didn’t have to be accomplished today, the sooner they found something, the sooner she would be rid of Cyril once and for all. Especially as she couldn’t rely on death to do that for her.
“You know,” Dee said in an offhand manner, “on occasion, when I have what is for the most part an excellent plan, I find I need help of a more specialized sort. An expert, perhaps, something of that nature. In this particular case, I think someone with financial knowledge—”
“No!” Teddy snapped.
“Someone who is well versed in monetary matters—”
“Absolutely not!”
“Someone who might have a hereditary background in bank—”
“Delilah Hargate, if you so much as breathe a single word about any of this to Jack, I will never forgive you.” Teddy glared. “I don’t want him near this. It’s bad enough that Mother and I are involved. I don’t doubt that Cyril is dangerous but more so to Jack than to us. Besides, if this all goes horribly wrong, the scandal will be enormous. I don’t think the future Earl of Briston should be embroiled in scandal of a financial nature especially given his connections to a prominent American bank. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but you know that my family is not averse to scandal. We have certainly weathered scandal and gossip before. Not me, of course, but everyone else in the family.”
“Promise me you won’t say a word to him.”
“Fine,” Dee snapped. “I think it’s completely shortsighted and really rather stupid of you not to ask him for his help but I promise I won’t say a word to Jack.” She got to her feet. “I’m supposed to meet Sam to return to Millworth but I will be back first thing in the morning to continue this . . . quest.”
“Thank you.” Teddy breathed a sigh of relief and cast the other woman a weak smile. “You are indeed my good, true friend.”
“I am and I always will be. And might I say you were right. You don’t need a hero. What you need, my good, true friend . . .” Dee met her gaze firmly. “Is a banker.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Well, this looks daunting.” Jack’s cool tone sounded from the dining room doorway.
Teddy clenched her teeth and prayed for strength. She should have known Dee wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut. Still, she had promised not to say anything to Jack and, at least for the moment, Teddy should give her the benefit of the doubt.
“This?” Teddy adopted a pleasant smile, pushed her chair back from the table, and stood. “Mother and I thought it was past time we went through Father’s records, put everything in order, that sort of thing. It’s something we should have done years ago but she was never quite up to it. You understand. And you’re right.” She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “It is a daunting task.”
A task Teddy had been dealing with since she arrived home shortly after daybreak. At her mother’s insistence, Teddy had slept at Dee’s house although sleep was not an entirely accurate description of the tossing and turning that had plagued Teddy through the long night. Now, after hours of sifting through the seemingly endless pages, it did appear futile, especially since neither she nor her mother had any idea exactly what to look for. Teddy assumed anything with Cyril’s name on it would be significant. Her mother was currently searching other rooms in the house in hopes of finding anything else Father might have hidden away.
“So have you learned anything of interest?”
“Learned anything?” She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Except for the fact that my father was exceptionally disorganized, which came as no surprise, no, nothing of particular interest.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Would you care to hear what I’ve learned?”
“What you . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “You know, don’t you? Dee told you, didn’t she?”
“I do and she didn’t,” he said, his tone harder than she expected. Almost annoyed. “While you did secure her promise not to tell me, you did not forbid her to tell anyone else.”
“Well, that was stupid of me.” Teddy should have known better. “She told Sam everything, didn’t she?”
“The words were out of her mouth the moment she saw him.” He scanned the table, no doubt hoping to find an element of organization amidst confusion. The neat stacks of papers she and her mother had spent hours sorting last night had somehow rearranged themselves into a chaos of indecipherable bits and pieces.
“And he told you.”
“Without so much as a moment’s hesitation.” He picked up a random document and studied it. “She also told Sam she wouldn’t be here to assist you today. I suspect she doesn’t want to face you.”
“Wise of her,” Teddy muttered. “Damn it all, Jack. You shouldn’t be here and I don’t see why you are. I do appreciate it, really I do, but I don’t need your help. This has nothing to do with you and I would much prefer to keep you as far away as possible. It’s messy and awkward and . . . and . . .”
“Keep me as far away as possible?” He stared at her in disbelief. “You may be the most intelligent woman I have ever met but unfortunately, you’re the most stubborn as well.” He threw the document in his hand back on the pile, then circled the table toward her. “And at times, you haven’t a brain in your head.”
“That’s exactly what I want to hear right now, thank you very much. I am well aware of any number of stupid mistakes I have made in the past.” She glared and brushed a persistent strand of hair away from her face. “And there’s absolutely no reason why you should be quite so annoyed with me. All I was—”
He grabbed her, pulled her hard into his arms, and gazed into her eyes. “And you don’t see anything.”
She stared up at him and her breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“Good God, if I have to explain it to you . . .” Without another word he pulled her tighter against him and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss demanding and possessive and utterly wonderful.
Shock held her still for the barest moment, then desire and need and something quite remarkable filled her. She clung to him, the scent of cold wool and vague spice that was completely Jack surrounded her and swept into her soul. And when at last he raised his head from hers she marveled that she could still stand. Dear Lord, what was happening to her? This wasn’t the first time he had kissed her after all. Still, it felt like a first kiss. It felt like a revelation. Or a beginning. Or forever.
“Why did you do that?” she said with a gasp.
“Because I’ve wanted to do that again since the last time I did that. Entirely too long ago.” His gaze slipped to her lips then back to her eyes. “I want to kiss you every minute I’m with you and most of the time when I’m not.”
“Oh.” She stared up at him and struggled to catch her breath. “That really wasn’t at all fair of you, you know.”
“I do know and I’m delighted that I thought of it.” He smiled. “Besides, it seemed the best way to shut you up.”
She smiled reluctantly. “I suppose it was effective.”
“Only for a moment apparently.”
Her gaze searched his. “Is there any way I can stop you from becoming involved in this?”
He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. “What do you think?”
The oddest feeling of awe washed through her and warmed her soul. She regretfully ignored it. “Have you considered the possible repercussions if this becomes public? For you and for your family? On both sides of the Atlantic I might add.”
“I’m more than aware of that. We shall just have to make sure it remains a private matter.” He kissed her again, fast and hard and again it took her breath away.
“Yes, of course.”
He released her and turned his attention back to Father’s papers. “Although I suspect we don’t need to worry about that. In spite of what he told you, I doubt your Lord Nottwood wants this matter made public any more than you do. If he did carry through with
his threat to release the evidence he claims to have against your father, it might not incriminate him but it would definitely adversely affect this new image he wants to present to the world. And it would destroy any benefit he would gain from marrying you.”
“Then you don’t think we need to worry about him,” she said slowly, hope rising for the first time since she’d met with Cyril.
“I didn’t say that.” He sat down and began sorting the papers. “Rationally, it makes no sense for him to expose your father but then it’s obvious your Lord Nottwood is not especially rational.”
“He’s not my Lord Nottwood and I do wish you would stop referring to him as such.”
“Sorry.” He pulled out a pair of spectacles from his waistcoat pocket and put them on.
She raised a brow. “Glasses, Jack?”
“Only when I have a lot of fine print to go through.”
“I like them.” Whereas Teddy had appreciated his boyish good looks before, the man in the spectacles looked not merely handsome but distinguished and resolute. The kind of man in whose hands you could put your future. And your heart.
“One less thing to worry about then.” He smiled but it was apparent his thoughts had already turned to the work ahead. He selected another paper and perused it. “As I was saying, a man willing to go to the lengths he has gone to in order to avoid prosecution is not a man to whom normal considerations of rational, sensible behavior would apply.”
“I suspect you’re right there.”
Jack’s gaze stayed on the paper in his hand. “There was no shipwreck.”
“What?”
“The ship Nottwood was allegedly on, the one lost at sea . . .” He glanced up at her. “It didn’t exist.”
She sank down into the nearest chair. “What do you mean?”
“Then it appears you do want to know what I have learned after all,” he said under his breath.
“Bloody hell, Jack, stop being so smug. I am not fond of games at the best of times. Now tell me what you’re talking about.”
He leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. “Sam and Gray and I have been in London since early this morning. Gray especially has a wide variety of sources of information. There is no record to be found of a ship being lost anywhere in the world during the period Nottwood’s death was reported.”
She stared. “So it was all a lie?”
He nodded. “Quite a detailed one from what we’ve been able to gather. There might even have been bribery involved in order to make this lost ship seem legitimate. Sam and Gray are still looking into it. Didn’t you wonder why there was no notice of a wrecked ship in the newspapers?”
“No, I was preoccupied what with my father’s recent death and my mother’s grief and my belief that my former fiancé was at the bottom of the ocean.” She huffed. “I had a great deal on my mind and verifying the letter I received from the company never so much as occurred to me.” She thought for a moment. “It should have though, given what I had learned about Cyril.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Do you still have it? The letter, that is.”
“I think so. Why?”
“It might point us in a particular direction. It certainly couldn’t hurt. Now . . .” He studied her closely. “Tell me everything you know about the Argentine Atlantic Trading Company.”
“It’s not much, I’m afraid.” Briefly, she explained all they knew about her father’s business dealings.
When she finished he stared at her for a long moment. “You didn’t understand one word of what you just said, did you?”
“Of course I did.” She scoffed, then grimaced. “But only one. As much as I hate to admit it, all this . . .” She waved at the table. “It’s as indecipherable to me as if it’s a foreign language. I understand profit and loss and what I need to do to balance expenditures with charges but as a matter of business, that’s minor. What Father was involved in, what you understand so easily, it’s quite beyond me.”
“Precisely why you need an expert.” He sifted through the papers in front of him. “Make no mistake, Theodosia, even if you needed help with something I had no knowledge of or experience with, I would give you my assistance whether you wished me to or not.”
“Oh?” She smiled. “Would you save me from a fire-breathing dragon?”
“Absolutely,” he said and began sorting the papers on the table.
“Rescue me from kidnapping pirates?”
“Without question.” He glanced at her. “Are you involved with pirates, too?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Good. I know nothing about pirates that didn’t come from a children’s book or a novel of adventure.” His gaze returned to the task in front of him. “It appears these were in some sort of order once.”
“We tried to sort it all out but it quickly became pointless,” she said. “Would you also—”
“I would risk my fortune, my future, and my very life for you should it be necessary,” he said absently, his attention already back on the documents strewn over the table. “Now then it appears this is a stock . . .”
Jack continued explaining what various papers were and why they might or might not be important, more to himself than to her. She was too shocked by his declaration to pay any attention at all, even if she had understood any of it. While she nodded and made appropriate comments, she couldn’t pull her mind away from his pronouncement.
Was it just something he said without thinking or would he truly risk everything for her? After all, he wasn’t really her fiancé. He didn’t actually plan to marry her. And he certainly wasn’t in love with her. Although he did sound like a man in love. And he definitely kissed like one. But Jack was the sort of man for whom love would lead directly to marriage. And marriage was not in her plans. But then neither was love.
It was a silly thought and she tried to dismiss it. Jack was simply trying to be like his father. He was trying to be her hero. There was nothing more to his comment than that. Why the man wasn’t even really paying attention. The realization was at once comforting and the tiniest bit disappointing.
Through the long day and well into the evening, she sat by his side and watched him study, arrange, and rearrange the papers left by her father, offering her assistance in any way she could. She supplied him with paper and pen and he’d jot notes periodically or pause to ask a question. Usually one she had no answer for. Mother popped into the dining room off and on. Unfortunately, she had discovered nothing that might prove worthwhile, which she found most distressing. All three of them agreed it was best if Mother absented herself from the proceedings as she wasn’t of any help anyway.
There were long stretches when he would study something that appeared promising and Teddy would study him. The man wielded intelligence like a sword, carried it like a warrior. His features strong and determined, he was obviously at home in the world of finance and figures. She noticed the tiny lines of concentration that furrowed his brow and the way his spectacles would slide down his nose and he’d absently push them back in place in a most endearing way. On more than one occasion she had to resist the impulse to reach out and smooth away an errant strand of hair. She noted the way his lips pressed together when his eyes narrowed and he focused on something that might be significant. She watched his hands shuffle through papers, strong and virile and knowing, and wondered in passing how they would feel sliding over her hips or her breasts. It was as intriguing and exciting a thought as it was improper. She tried in vain to vanquish that and other persistent thoughts.
They took a brief break for a light supper with her mother and Jack seemed determined to charm her. And he did. By the end of the meal Mother was taken with far more than his prospects and his future title. When they finished eating, she said she had a few other places her husband might have left papers, cast an approving look at her daughter, then took her leave.
“I think that’s it for tonight,” Jack said a few hours later. He leaned back in his chair and
blew a weary breath. “We’ve gotten through nearly a quarter of it.” He shook his head. “Your father didn’t believe in throwing anything away. Receipts, notations, half-written letters . . . To our benefit, really.”
“Except that there’s so much of it.” Teddy cast a disgusted look at the now neatly stacked piles of her father’s financial life. “Why couldn’t my father have been smart enough to have hidden evidence to incriminate Cyril in a secret drawer or slipped between the pages of a book or something of that nature.”
Jack chuckled. “It would have made this easier.”
“Although I suppose if Father had been farsighted and clever enough to do that, perhaps he wouldn’t have been in the position he was.”
“Theodosia.” Jack leaned forward and took her hand. “Everything I’ve seen so far tells me that your father had no idea what he was involved in, at least not until the end.”
She drew a deep breath. “There was no company, was there?”
“As far as I can tell, there was something.” Jack hesitated. “But it appears to have been built on stock certificates, questionable bonds, paper, and promises without anything solid or substantial to back it up.”
“It was all a fraud, Jack, wasn’t it?”
Again he paused, then nodded. “That’s how it appears. Looking at it all, and admittedly we’re nowhere near finished, there are indications that your father was not the only one to lose a fortune in this. It’s not surprising really when you consider that currently the largest group of investors in Latin America—especially in Argentinean interests—are British. And a lot of them have made a lot of money. But as I said, it looks to me that your father had no idea what he was involved in.”
“Stupidity is not really a good excuse, is it?”
He smiled in a half-hearted manner. “Probably not.” He got to his feet. “Are you staying here tonight?”
The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) Page 30
