Page 62 of Moonlight Encounter
“I keep wondering if we made a mistake investigating this matter ourselves. Should I have gone to Peel as soon as I read the letter from the baron?”
Aidan stood up, wandering over to the window to stare out at the gray afternoon. It was still drizzling rain, but there was a glimmer of sun through a thin bank of clouds.
“Perhaps, but we are committed to this course, so there is no time for regrets. Trafford said we must wait for word from him, so while your men try to find him, I shall sort out this crisis with Smythe and my wife.”
“You will let me know if you need anything? Lily and I remain entrenched at the duke’s home, so anything. Anything at all. You have risked much to assist us.”
Aidan nodded. “I shall send word if I need assistance.Keep me apprised about the search for Trafford. He is … more than I initially realized.”
Filminster chuckled. “Trafford grows on you. Then one day you realize you cannot live without him in your life.”
Huffing, Aidan nodded again. Trafford’s tutelage on lovemaking had been as effective as he had promised on Aidan’s wedding day. He shook his head. The scoundrel had better survive whatever he was doing. The world would be a worse place without his antics.
“I shall leave you to it. There are places I want to check for Trafford. Send for me if you need me.”
Filminster left, and Smythe returned.
Aidan and he stood and stared at each other in deep silence until Aidan eventually broke the impasse.
“I cannot inform you about the baron’s death and why I suspected you. There are too many lives involved. It is best if you do not know.”
Smythe crossed over to his desk to retake his leather swivel chair. “Very well, but my daughter is in great distress, according to the servants.”
Aidan had never experienced such guilt, knowing that Gwen was upstairs and he did not know how to approach her to explain what she had witnessed.
“What have you been doing?” Aidan could not help himself. He had to know. Even if it was not fair to ask when he refused to answer Smythe’s questions.
Smythe grinned, his blue eyes mischievous as he leaned forward to answer in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Ships! Very fast ships!”
Aidan blinked in surprise. “Ships?”
Smythe nodded, his grin spreading wider. “Around the docks, they call them clippers. I have been selling off anything that I can to invest. Ships that can move commoditiesfaster than before. Souchong and Congo teas, for instance. I aim to profit.”
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Aidan attempted to understand. “Why were you meeting with those brutish ruffians in the taverns?”
“I have been gathering information about the conditions of the ships and crews. Information I can use to negotiate the best arrangements for myself. I have limited funds, so I cannot afford to make any errors.”
“Mr. Smythe … I mean … you have behaved most oddly for something so … mundane.”
Smythe straightened up, gazing down at his hands resting on his mahogany desk. “Ah, but Aidan, I am the lowly third son of a baron. My claim to the peerage is tenuous at best. When word gets out that I divested myself of land to invest in trade … do you know what polite society will say?”
Aidan shut his eyes, accepting he was the worst kind of fool. Far more foolish than the clownish Trafford. He had suspected Smythe of murder because of discretion over actions that were simply explained while Trafford had pursued real suspects.
“It will be a scandal. Many will shun you when they learn you are no longer an idle gentleman of pleasure supported by the income of your estates.”
Smythe bobbed his head slowly in assent. “I will be, horror of horrors,aman of trade.”
Aidan rolled his shoulders. The aches of his fall were pronounced, probably because he was tense as hell trying to calculate how to make things up to his bride. “Why are you doing this?”
Smythe pushed his chair back to stand. Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked over to the fireplace to stare into the hearth.
“My estate income was declining. When I inherit the title from my brother … he is a man stuck in the past. His estates are out of date, run with the same methods as our father and our grandfather before him. The Americans have unlimited lands for growing and export. I have seen the future, and it is grim unless I take steps to build a secure future for my son. Gareth will have nothing left unless I take action.”
Gareth. Gwen’s little brother at Eton. Suddenly it all came together, and Aidan realized that the naked ambition he had witnessed on his wedding day had been Smythe’s delight in securing Gwen a marriage before fresh scandal broke when his move into business became public knowledge. “You wanted Gwen to make a good match before word got out?”
Smythe turned from the fireplace, his grin back in place. “Precisely! She is married to a future viscount. Connected to the wealthy Earl of Saunton and powerful Duke of Halmesbury. My daughter’s future is secure no matter what transpires. Thebeau mondewill never mock her again because she is somebody of consequence.”
