Page 4 of A Wallflower Never Forgets
Chapter Two
King Street, London ~ The Next Day
Jonathan stepped down from his carriage and walked up the steps to the office of his father’s man of business. The front door jangled, as a bell announced his entry to the second-floor office. “Lord DeLacey, it’s a pleasure to see you,” a slightly balding man with spectacles said, standing to take Jonathan’s coat and hat. “Mr. Slade will return shortly; he had an errand to run. May I offer you a glass of water, my lord? Or, if you prefer, I can offer you something stronger.”
“Thank you. Something stronger would be good,” Jonathan said.
“Yes, my lord.”
A moment later, the bell clattered again, and Nash Slade entered the office. Slade was the cousin to Lady Maggie, the wife of Max Wilde, the Earl of Worsley. Over the past few years, Slade had become a valued member of Harlow’s family—despite Slade being illegitimate, he’d overcome a nefarious history in his youth and had matured into a man of wit and honor with a thirst for knowledge and an intuitive approach to discovering lucrative investment opportunities. Through Harlow’s connections, Slade had become established and successful with clients numbering among several of the most influential and titled men within the ton.
“DeLacey, glad to see you’re back,” Slade said, shaking Jonathan’s hand. “I have the file for your father’s property in Tintagel, Cornwall.”
“Elysium Manor? Interesting. I wonder what he has in mind,” Jonathan murmured.
“Brandy, my lords,” Mooney said, handing both men a snifter.
“Good man,” Slade said.
“Thank you, Mooney,” Jonathan added.
The door closed behind the clerk and Jonathan leaned back in his chair, swirling his brandy in the bottom of the glass, admiring the deep red dregs left on the inside of the glass. “I’m back but I’m not sure how long I’ll be in London.”
“How was Paris?” Slade asked, taking a sip from his glass.
“The usual. But we caught the rat. The only problem is there may be more.”
Slade gave a knowing nod. “Glad to hear it.”
Jonathan gave a harsh laugh. “Yes. It is a problem—one I hope to rectify as soon as possible. While Father is still handling the properties and hasn’t pressed me for more involvement, yet, I have time to resolve it.”
Slade was trustworthy. He knew what Jonathan had been working on but not the specific details. Slade had always been a good resource, not only because of his finesse in matters of business but because of his own background growing up in the criminal underworld. Jonathan also knew that Slade would never share anything he knew with Jonathan’s father.
Jonathan’s father did not approve of his working for the Crown, especially considering he was the only son. His father considered it selfish for him to have “gallivanted” off to France.
“Just because that harpy broke your heart doesn’t mean you have to throw your life away,” his father had railed at him four years ago after Jonathan made his decision to work for the Crown.
Perhaps in the beginning he’d acted reckless and impulsive, but his spy work had become important and meaningful to him. His father had never been able to understand that. Even so, Jonathan knew the risks he took could have had dire consequences for his family’s legacy. Hunting down Talbot and arresting him had been his final assignment. He’d promised his father he would come home and take a more active role in managing the family’s estate and holdings.
He knew his father would once again launch back into the “marriage” talk with him, insisting that marrying and having children was also doing his duty for the Crown. It wasn’t that Jonathan refused to marry; it was that he didn’t think he could have the kind of marriage his parents had. Or find the kind of woman several of his closest friends had been fortunate to find.
Worsley’s wife, Lady Maggie, was as brave as she was beautiful and had become a force to be reckoned with. She was Worsley’s partner in every sense. Jonathan doubted he would be as lucky as his friend had been. He’d been young and foolish when he’d met Diana, unable to see her for who and what she was. When he decided to think seriously about marriage, he would never make that mistake again.
“I am compiling a dossier outlining all your family’s investments along with my suggestions for future growth. I should have it completed soon,” Slade said, bringing Jonathan back to the matter at hand. “In the meantime, perhaps you can discuss matters with your father and mutually agree on a good time to consider taking more responsibility and then we can meet again. I mean, with your other issue still awaiting a final solution—this doesn’t seem the best time.”
Jonathan smiled tightly. Slade had also become quite diplomatic in his ability to communicate when there was a conflict in the families of his clients. “Yes…I agree. But I’m hopeful to have that resolved soon. As far as Elysium Manor is concerned, Father and I have discussed the shift in responsibility. No date has been decided, but I know Father wishes to spend more time with Mother traveling and visiting family and friends, so yes, I’ll be ready. He wants me around more. And I find that I want to be around more, as well.”
A knock sounded at the door. “My lord, Mr. Slade, a man just delivered this for Lord DeLacey.”
Jonathan perused the note. “I’m sorry, Slade. I must cut our meeting short.” He had just received a note from an informant asking that they meet on the corner of Bond and Oxford. The missive conveyed a sense of urgency.
Slade nodded. “Don’t worry. We can continue this later in the week.”
They concluded their meeting as Slade promised to contact Jonathan in a few days.
As Jonathan stepped from the building, a woman’s shrill scream heralded the thunder of horses as pounding hooves, wild and frenzied, echoed through the narrow street, followed by the piercing squeal of horses fighting their reins. His head snapped toward the source—a black carriage, sleek and ominous, tearing around the corner, its four ebony horses in a desperate, uncontrolled dash.
“My lady…careful…watch out!” A woman wearing a blue day dress screamed.
