Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

F inn sat in his study three days later, staring at some of the arrangements for his sister’s wedding, but he hardly saw the words and numbers swimming on the page. Just as he had been since the ball, he was distracted. Esme took up too great a share of his mind for him to have any other main focus.

Things had shifted between them since he realized he was in love with her. Not only had that feeling grown with every moment he spent with her, but she had changed too. She came to him at night, they shared supper and long talks, and then they made love, over and over until he was weak from her.

But she never stayed for more than a few hours. And she never let him too close beyond her body. If he edged toward anyplace she felt he didn’t belong, she offered pleasant distraction, or she slipped away into the night, leaving him aching for her body and soul.

There was a light knock on the study door and he lifted his head as Bentley entered the room. “You have a missive, my lord.”

“About the wedding?” Finn asked. “They come fast and furious with the ceremony tomorrow. Put it with the pile, I intend to start going through all of it just now.”

“Er, I don’t believe so, my lord.” Bentley stepped forward, the note outstretched. “This is from Lord Chilton. You asked that if anything arrived from him, to interrupt you with it.”

Finn was already on his feet and he took the letter with shaking hands. “Yes, thank you, Bentley. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do, my lord?” Bentley asked.

“No. Just continue with the arrangements for tomorrow. I know Lord Ramsbury and Lady Marianne intend to join me for supper tonight, so make sure you have some of her favorite madeira available, separate from the cases for the wedding party tomorrow afternoon.”

“It is already done, my lord.”

“Excellent.” Finn managed a warm smile. “I can always depend on you, old friend. I appreciate it.”

The butler blushed a little, but then stepped out of the room and left Finn. As soon as he was alone, Finn tore the wax seal free and unfolded the letter.

Delacourt,

I realize you must be busy with final preparations for the wedding, but I’ve been thinking about our last conversation and would very much like to see you at your earliest convenience. This afternoon, if you’ve time.

Chilton

Finn’s jaw set as he read the words over and over, looking for some clue within the swirl of the man’s handwriting that would say he was a killer. In the end, he set the letter down on his desk and walked to the window.

He should reach out to Esme and let her know about this development. They had agreed he would wait to contact Chilton, himself, until after the wedding, even if the waiting made things uncomfortable for them both. But she would want to know Francis had made the first step, himself.

Of course, when he did that, she would rush to decisions. She would want to come along with him, to insert herself into the answers they sought. Endanger herself.

But if he went alone, he could handle Francis in whatever way he saw fit. She might be angry, but wasn’t an apology better than asking permission? It didn’t feel better, but that was the saying after all.

He moved to the door and rang the bell and Bentley reappeared momentarily.

“Have one of the footmen ready to deliver a return message to the marquess in a moment. And I’ll be following not far after, so my horse should be ready at one.”

“Of course, my lord,” Bentley said.

Finn returned to his desk and got out all his writing instruments, forcing his hands and mind to settle before he began to write his short return message. This was a long chess game, a marathon, not a sprint. And since he intended to play it to a win, he had to be in no hurry.

Whether Esme would agree with that decision was another story.

I t had been over two years since Finn had been in the Chilton house. He’d normally met Esme’s father at Fitzhugh’s club or in his own home, but from time to time he’d call here. Now he stood looking around at what had once been a sophisticated parlor. Once, because now it was decorated with a garish, ostentatious eye from the overly stuffed chairs to the truly ugly crystal animals along the mantelpiece.

Gone were the serene paintings of estate grounds and favorite dogs and horses, replaced with portraits of the current marquess. Francis in his finery. Francis standing with a gun and a dead stag’s gory head. Francis in military regalia, though Finn didn’t think the man had ever served.

He was still rolling his eyes when a throat cleared behind him and he turned to find the marquess, himself, had entered the room.

“Good afternoon, Chilton,” Finn said, extending a hand and swallowing back the disgust that still came any time he had to refer to this man by the title.

“Delacourt,” Francis said, and motioned to one of the chairs Finn had already found far too uncomfortable to sit in while he waited. “I’m glad we could arrange this meeting this afternoon. I know you’re busy.”

Finn sat. “I am. My sister’s wedding is just tomorrow and the gathering after the ceremony is to be held at my home here in London.”

“Well, that is the duty of the servants, I suppose. Glad I never had a sister, what a lot of wasted blunt on weddings and trousseaus and such.”

Finn tilted his head. “Yes, and with your cousin gone, I suppose you are free of all that.”

There was a slight twitch to the other man’s lips. “Well, I would have worked out a way not to pay for that hoyden even if she hadn’t run off. Why should I have to provide for such a woman?”

Finn shrugged even though he was gripping one hand against the seat arm. This man was truly a demon. “I’m pleased to provide for Marianne. I suppose it takes all kinds,” he said.

“I suppose. And she matched well enough with Ramsbury. He has a fine fortune, after all. Very well played on your part, or hers if she forced the match somehow.”

Oh, it was getting very difficult to keep himself in order now. He felt his lips thinning as he pressed them tightly before he said, “This cannot be a topic of interest to you, my lord. It barely ranks as a topic of interest for me.”

“No, of course,” Francis chuckled. “I actually did have a purpose in asking you here.”

“Oh?” Finn didn’t have to feign surprise, he truly felt it. “And what is that?”

“When we spoke last week, I had the impression you might want to carry on the link your house had to Chilton. Would that be true?”

“Certainly,” Finn said. “Men of power must stick together, mustn’t they? We likely share some of the same interests, when it comes to financial dealings or other things of that type.”

Francis eyed him more closely. “And my uncle didn’t turn you off of me before his death?”

Finn wrinkled his brow. “Turn me off of you? What do you mean?”

“Well, it came to my attention before his…his untimely demise that he had occasionally tried to poison others against me.”

The turn of phrase this man had picked was difficult to ignore. “Poison is a hard way to go, I hear,” Finn drawled. “But no, he never spoke much to me about you.”

That much was true. He’d had a sense of the late Chilton’s tension when he spoke of his presumptive heir, but never had gone into much detail. However, if he were turning others against Francis…that was certainly a motive for murder, alongside the inheritance of title and fortune that would follow the previous marquess’s death.

“Interesting,” Francis mused, Finn thought more to himself than to Finn. “I do have financial interests that I’m trying to find partners in developing. If someone like you were to come on board with them, it would certainly lend credence, wouldn’t it? And benefit us both in the end.”

“Such as?”

“I have an interest in independent country banking, you see. Holding investments, loans, that type. There are already several in my circle who have bought in.”

Finn arched a brow. The country banking system was all privately run and often corrupt. There had been stories of charlatans who stayed in one village just long enough to take the funds of the locals, then disappeared into the night with whatever they had collected, leaving destitution and destruction in their wake.

“Hmm, that can be tricky business,” he said coolly.

“Not if you’re on the right end of it.” Francis chuckled.

Oh yes, if Finn were going to place a wager, he would have put it on the new Marquess of Chilton being involved in some kind of fraudulent banking. Why the last marquess had never warned Finn off, he had no idea.

“An interesting notion.” He leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you can give me more information in the coming days. Is there anything else you’re thinking about?”

“I know someone who is running supplies to and from the continent.”

“Past the blockades?” Finn asked.

“For the right price, one can make a fortune on such goods,” Francis said. “We could go in together on it. You’d have to do nothing at all, just collect on your investment.”

Finn almost laughed. Anyone who promised that was definitely a charlatan. “And your uncle was aware of these ideas?” he said. “I never would have imagined he’d be so bold.”

He didn’t mean bold, of course. He knew the late Chilton never would have been so criminal. But bold made it sound like he approved on some level. Like there was bravery involved.

Francis’s mouth twisted. “My uncle was a coward. Turned me down flat when I asked for money for some of these things just before his death. Even threatened to go to the authorities. When he was finally gone, the deed done, I was ready to access my due. But there’s a great deal in entail, forced into places where I cannot easily access it. I want more. And now that he’s no longer there to stop me, why shouldn’t I have it?”

The deed done . Those three small words rang in Finn’s head, even though he doubted Francis had even known he’d said them, he was so busy railing in general. But they implied the man had done something. Done exactly what Esme feared. It wasn’t evidence, but it put Finn closer to the edge than ever.

“I’m sorry for your misfortunes,” he said softly.

Francis stopped going on about the injustices he had endured and glared at him. “Don’t take a high and mighty tone with me, Delacourt. We’re equals now, you know.”

“It wasn’t meant to be high or mighty, Chilton,” Finn said.

The room was silent for a moment, thick with tension now. Francis folded his arms and said, “After your sister’s engagement ball, you weren’t alone.”

Finn sat up a little. “I beg your pardon?”

“A lady was with you. I don’t think she was a doxy, there was something in the way she moved that felt familiar. Well heeled.” Finn’s world was spinning now but he managed to stay in place and keep his expression as calm as he could. “So if you think you’re better than me, I might remind you that you also have some secrets, don’t you now?”

“An interesting road to take if you want my help and friendship,” he drawled. “Attempting to blackmail me over a one-night lover.”

“But she isn’t just for one night, is she? I’ve seen the same lady coming and going to your house ever since. In an unmarked carriage that I believe is from your stable.”

“You’re spying on me,” Finn asked and he couldn’t quite control his tone anymore.

“A man has many ways to make allies, or force them.” Francis leaned back in his chair. “But only if he must. Perhaps you need to think about your options when it comes to what I’ve suggested we partner in, yes? We can speak again after your sister’s wedding.”

Finn rose to his full height and glared down at Francis. “It seems I have a great deal to think about. Good day, sir.”

He didn’t shake hands or wait for a response. He simply pivoted on his heel and exited the room, signaling for his horse as he came out of the house and down the steps. He had trouble seating the animal as he thundered from the drive. All he could think about was the fact that Francis was spying. He’d seen Esme, even if he didn’t fully realize who she was.

To protect her, Finn had to go to her as soon as possible and inform her of this turn of events. And he had a very good idea of where she might be. He just didn’t know how she would respond to where he’d gone, what he’d done and what he now knew about a man who was looking more and more like a killer.