Chapter Eight

In Which Tea is Served, and Difficult Decisions are Discussed at Length

Richard found himself somewhat bemused as the servants laid the tea table in rapid time and he ended up sitting with Lady Hazel on one side and her daughter on the other.

He was quite comfortable dealing with the aristocracy on a business level, but joining them for tea in an elegant library was a very different situation. He prayed he wouldn’t accidentally drop a buttered scone on Lady Hazel’s lap.

The aristocracy themselves, however, seemed quite content to share their tea with an ordinary man of business.

“Sir Duncan is resting,” announced Lord Trease, with a sigh, as introductions were concluded, and everyone took their seats. “Poor chap is really done in by this journey.”

“I’m not surprised,” replied his wife. “But to be honest, dear, I think it’s better that he be here, rather than at Rosewood. Our staff can look after him and make sure he has everything he needs to regain some strength.” She pursed her lips. “Not that his people there aren’t efficient, but it’s not his permanent residence. So I’m not convinced they offer the care and comfort that we can here at Forest Grange.”

“You are quite correct, my Lady,” Blackstone nodded. “I’m sure Sir Duncan’s sojourn here, under your excellent touch, will prove beneficial to his health.”

“Have you known him long, Mr Blackstone?” Holly’s question was posed in a casually interested manner.

“Not long at all, Miss Trease. We became acquainted through a mutual friend when Sir Duncan was in London.” He thought for a moment. “That must have been going on six months or so ago.” He shook his head. “Goodness, how time flies.”

“But you’ve clearly kept in touch,” she continued, her gaze one of polite interest.

“We have, yes. A very perspicacious gentleman, if I may say so, with a shrewd mind for business.” He sipped tea. “ We have enjoyed a prolific correspondence, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I admire him immensely.”

“We find him most pleasant,” Lady Hazel affirmed. “Although I, for one, will confess myself quite surprised by his decision to travel at this time of year. He is usually to be found sequestered at Aylmer House with his daughter and son-in-law.”

Blackstone agreed. “And I believe he had planned to do so this year. After settling our business, he was to embark on the journey there. But his illness, and his need to speak with your Lordship…” he nodded at Lord Trease, “postponed his departure.”

“Well, one must hope that the weather clears enough for him to make his journey home,” said Lady Trease. “I’m sure his family eagerly awaits his arrival.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Blackstone. “I would venture to say that in a day or so, this matter will be settled, and we can all look forward to Christmas with our families.”

“You live in London, sir?” Holly glanced at him.

“I do, Miss Trease. At the present time I am engaged in redecorating a house I bought recently. Not a job that I enjoy.” He smiled. “In fact, I might solicit your opinion, and perhaps that of your Mama, about interior fashions. A topic on which, I am not afraid to say, I know little or nothing.”

Richard observed the polite by-play, noting Holly’s non-committal response and Lady Hazel’s smooth intervention with some comments of her own.

It was all, on the surface, a charming afternoon tea amongst the gentry in their country home.

But there was something beneath Blackstone’s demeanour. His eyes, expressionless, roamed the room, resting on a portrait or a statue, then moving on to something else, almost as if he was assessing the value of every item there.

Richard knew this man’s public reputation as a wealthy businessman, whose interests included collecting fine art—the purchase of which was funded, according to less than public rumours, by the profits from a string of brothels.

He wouldn’t tell the Treases, of course, but he’d also heard that several gaming houses featured in Blackstone’s financial portfolio. Ones where fortunes were lost on a regular basis by those idiotic enough to think they could beat the odds.

Blackstone had painted himself as a man of modest fortune, wit, and elegance. And had used dishonest gains as his palette of colours. Now he was becoming accepted in higher circles, and his business acumen was attracting people like Sir Duncan, always ready to entertain a new, and possibly profitable, venture.

Watching him chat with Lady Hazel, and even manage to engage Holly in a discussion of some young artist who was making a stir in London, Richard had to acknowledge the skill with which Blackstone dealt easily with the elevated circle he found himself in.

If one didn’t know the truth about him? He might seem quite amiable. But Richard did know, and he made a mental note to himself to remind Holly at the earliest possible moment. She was already leery of this man. Best to be as honest as he could and keep her that way.

Which was a very personal goal, and probably should take second place to his actual business assignment, which would have been much easier if he’d still possessed those damned papers.

What he needed now, and what he resolved to do, if at all possible, was to speak to Sir Duncan Aylmer. And for that, he would need Holly and possibly her parents.

Even then, his mission wasn’t guaranteed to meet with success, and if Blackstone found out who he was, and what he would be telling Sir Duncan?

The results might be damnably unpleasant for all concerned.

*~~*~~*

“Well, that went quite well,” murmured Holly, as she and Richard left the library.

Her father and Blackstone were still there, discussing some recent events in the financial world, so it wasn’t hard for Lady Hazel to rise and announce she was leaving them to it.

The perfect cue for Holly, who had asked Richard to assist her with more decorations; thus the three of them left the library together and paused in the hall.

“I don’t know, Mama,” said Holly quietly. “What do you think?”

Lady Trease shook her head. “Not here. Come with me.” She led them to her study, shooed them inside, and closed the door.

“There doesn’t seem to be a thing wrong with him,” she said immediately. “And you know who I’m talking about.”

“Yes,” said Holly, echoing Richard’s silent nod.

“But…” Lady Hazel paused and stared from the window at the snow. “But there is something.” She turned back. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something there that isn’t…I don’t know…comfortable.”

“Agreed, Mama. I felt the same.” Holly turned to Richard. “What do you think?”

His face betrayed nothing of his thoughts for a few moments, and then his brows slowly drew together. “He is not a man I would wish to have in my house. Based on what I know first-hand, and what I’ve heard? I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

Lady Hazel sighed. “You’d best sit down, Richard, and relate what you know, if you please.”

She waved them both to a couch and took the chair next to it. Holly was barely aware that she’d seated herself close to Richard, and had to restrain herself from taking his hand. It was an odd moment when she realised that such a gesture would shock her Mama, though it seemed perfectly natural to herself.

But Richard was speaking, and she knew it was important, so she pushed everything personal aside to listen.

What he said confounded both women.

Rumours of extortion, theft, beatings, and violence, coupled with fraudulent deals, threats, blackmail, and even prostitution…Richard spared no detail when it came to revealing what he had heard the past year or so with regard to Mr Blackstone and his business dealings.

“He is now quite wealthy, make no mistake about that. His fortune is secure, and he uses it to build even more wealth.”

“So why is he visiting Sir Duncan?” asked Lady Hazel. “What can he want from him?”

“I wish I could answer that, my Lady,” said Richard, his face concerned. “It worries me a lot.”

“Has Papa not said anything about it,” asked Holly. “Does he know why Sir Duncan is apparently doing business with this man?”

“If he does, he hasn’t said anything to me yet,” she replied cautiously. “But I know your father well enough to tell he’s not impressed by Blackstone.”

“Hmm.” Holly sighed. “Richard…” she turned to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Can you not tell us now, now that all this is happening, what was in your bag? What were the documents you carried that nearly got you killed?”

He looked at her and absently covered her hand with his. “I am beginning to think I have no other choice,” he said, his voice low. “Even though it goes against everything I hold dear. My honour cannot be bought, and my word has—until now—meant something, something very important.” He looked up at Lady Hazel. “If I break my word, my professional vow to keep this matter confidential…”

Thus addressed, the lady sighed. “I cannot advise you, Richard. I wish I could. But as you say, this is something that only you can decide. I would suggest that perhaps you take a stroll around the house; Holly can guide you, and while you walk, examine what you know, and see if it applies to anything here, especially Blackstone. If so, then that might help you make your decision. A period of quiet reflection can often resolve important matters.”

“That is an excellent notion, Mama,” replied Holly, turning to Richard. “If it were any other time of year, I’d take you outside for a walk through the woods, but given the weather, the best I can do is offer a stroll through our small portrait gallery…”

“I will be more than happy to stretch my legs,” replied Richard. “And yes, walking is good for sorting out one’s mind.”

“I will see you both at dinner,” Lady Hazel nodded. “Think clearly, Richard. And we shall abide by your decision.”

Holly led him from the room and then gently tucked her arm through his. “Ready?”

“Indeed, yes,” he answered quietly. “This entire afternoon has given me much to consider.”

“Me too,” she agreed, as they made their way across the hall and into one of the many corridors leading to the rest of the house. “I am amazed that I am now plunged into a dangerous mystery, complete with and unscrupulous villain and his unsuspecting victim.”

“Sir Duncan?”

“Who else? You are certainly not unsuspecting, although you were a victim as well, I suppose.”

“Hmm. My head would agree with you.”

“Are you still in pain?” She tugged him to a standstill.

“No, no,” he reassured her. “Thanks to your Mrs Trenchard, I have almost forgotten my injuries.”

“Good,” Holly resumed their walk, thinking for a moment or two. “So you’re worried that Sir Duncan is a target of Blackstone’s schemes, whatever they are?”

Richard was silent for a moment or two. “It is very much looking that way.”

Holly slowed her steps and turned them to the right, then pushed open a large door and led him into what was obviously the gallery.

“There are twenty-three portraits here, none of which are of particular interest to anyone other than family. So we can stroll without paying attention to them, and you can tell Mama how much you enjoyed viewing them.”

Richard chuckled. “Surely there are one or two who are noteworthy? Is the current generation represented?”

“Not yet,” she paused next to what was obviously the image of a gentleman who had lived many generations ago. “This is the fellow who started it all. Hopper Trease.” She tilted her head as she looked at the painting. “As you can tell, a robust gentleman, but actually one of my favourites.”

“He looks like a most cheerful fellow.”

“I like to think he was,” she agreed. “After all, he was elevated from the humble position of farm hand to the aristocracy and given this estate. You might call him our founding father.”

“He certainly started a line of descendants who have cherished the land and cared for it as it deserves.”

“What a lovely thing to say.” Holly blinked at him. “I must remember to tell Mama you said that.”

“Um…” Richard looked somewhat self-conscious.

“Anyway,” she moved him along. “Let’s sit here and talk. Or think, or whatever would help you decide what to do in this incredibly difficult position. Don’t let the faces staring at us deter you from your due consideration.”

He grinned. “They won’t. I actually enjoy art. While studying to be a solicitor, I took up painting as a hobby. It allowed my mind to digest the mammoth amount of useless information, while my hands were busy mixing colours for the bowl of chrysanthemums on my desk.”

She smiled. “I don’t have paints or chrysanthemums, I’m afraid, so the Trease family ancestors will have to suffice.”

And leading him to a comfortable couch, Holly sat him down, then joined him, and looked at him intently, hoping a few moments of quiet would help him make the right decision.